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THE  LIBRARY 

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THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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IV   lie   tilki-M     I'll.  Ill    till'     UI'IMIA    I  IV    till'    IIH-llllicl-s 

of  the   I.c.ui-Iiitnri-  ami   it<  olli.-.-rs  ilurii    . 

iui'1   at  iin>  tini"  liv  ti.  ml  tlir  i.llii  utivi- 

State,  who  are  required  '"  ^<-'-\>  tli--ir  niliri--  nt 

i    nf   (Mivi-riiiuriit.    llii-   .lu-li.  i-   uf    tlir   Sii|ir>>liii-   Cuiirt.   llit! 
Atturn.  i'l  tin-  Tni-ti'i--,  ^l  the  Lilmiry. 


THE 


..- 


BIG  BROTHER 


A  STORY  OF  INDIAN  WAR 


BY 


GEORGE     GARY    EGGLESTON 

Author  of  "  How  TO  EDUCATE  YOURSELF,"  ETC. 


Illustrated 


NEW  YORK 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

FOURTH  AVENUE  AND  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 


COPYRIGHT. 
G.   P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Page 

SlNQUEFIELD 



...          7 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  STORMING  OF 

SlNQUEFIELD 

17 

CHAPTER  III. 

SAM'S  LECTURE     - 

. 

-     m  -        28 

CHAPTER  IV. 

SAM   FINDS   IT   NECESSARY   TO   THINK 

38 

CHAPTER  V. 

SAM'S  FORTRESS   - 

4.6 

CHAPTER  VI. 

SURPRISED 



61 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CONFUSED 



-       -       -        67 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

WEATHERFORD 

.        .        .        . 

71 

CHAPTER  IX. 

WEARY  WAITING 



-       -       -        83 

832695 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X.  Page. 

FIGHTING  FIRE ----93 

CHAPTER  XI. 
IN  THE  WILDERNESS    -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -104 

CHAPTER  XII. 
AN  ALARM  AND  A  WELCOME 118 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
JOE'S  PLAN    ---------       -      124 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
THE  CANOE  FIGHT      --       --       -       -       -       -130 

CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  BOYS  ARE  DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  ROOT  FORTRESS    -      143 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
WHERE  is  JOE? 159 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
A  FAMINE --      163 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
WHICH  ENDS  THE  STORY 173 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page. 

THE  DOG  CHARGE     ....        Frontispiece. 

SAM'S  PARTY 20 

"WE'S  DUN  Los' — DAT'S  WHA'  WE  is"  -       -  40 

JUDIE  ON  THE  RAFT 49 

THE  PERILOUS  LEAP 83 


THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SINQUEFIELD. 

IN  the  quiet  days  of  peace  and  security 
in  which  we  live  it  is  difficult  to  imagine 
such  a  time  of  excitement  as  that  at 
which  our  story  opens,  in  the  summer  of  1813. 
From  the  beginning  of  that  year,  the  Creek 
Indians  in  Alabama  and  Mississippi  had  shown 
a  decided  disposition  to  become  hostile.  In 
addition  to  the  usual  incentives  to  \var  which 
always  exist  where  the  white  settlements  border 
closely  upon  Indian  territory,  there  were  several 
special  causes  operating  to  bring  about  a  struggle 
at  that  time.  We  were ,  already  at  war  with  the 
British,  and  British  agents  were  very  active  in  stir- 


8  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ring  up  trouble  on  our  frontiers,  knowing  that 
nothing  would  so  surely  weaken  the  Americans 
as  a  general  outbreak  of  Indian  hostilities.  Te- 
cumseh,  the  great  chief,  had  visited  the  Creeks,  too, 
and  had  urged  them  to  go  on  the  war  path,  threat 
ening  them,  in  the  event  of  their  refusal,  with  the 
wrath  of  the  Great  Spirit.  His  appeals  to  their 
superstition  were  materially  strengthened  by  the 
occurrence  ;  of  an  earthquake,  which  singularly 
enough,  he  had  predicted,  threatening  that  when 
he  returned  to  his  home  he  would  stamp  his  foot 
and  shake  their  houses  down.  Their  own  prophets, 
Francis  and  Singuista,  had  preached  war,  too, 
telling  the  Indians  that  their  partial  adoption  of 
civilization,  and  their  relations  of  friendship  with 
the  whites,  were  sorely  displeasing  to  the  Great 
Spirit,  who  would  surely  punish  them  if  they  did 
not  immediately  abandon  the  civilization  and  butch 
er  the  pale-faces.  Francis  predicted,  also,  that  in 
the  coming  struggle  no  Indians  would  be  killed, 
while  the  whites  would  be  completely  extermi 
nated.  All  this  was  promised  on  condition  that  the 
Indians  should  become  complete  savages  again, 
quitting  all  the  habits  of  industry  anci  thrift  which 


SINQUEFIELD.  g 

they  had  been  learning  for  some  years  past,  and 
fighting  mercilessly  against  all  whites,  sparing 
none. 

All  these  things  combined  to  bring  on  the  war, 
and  during  the  spring  several  raids  were  made  by 
small  bodies  of  the  Indians,  in  which  they  were 
pretty  severely  punished  by  the  whites.  Finally  a 
battle  was  fought  at  Burnt-corn,  in  July  1813,  and 
this  was  the  signal  for  the  breaking  out  of  the  most 
terrible  of  all  Indian  wars, — the  most  terrible,  be 
cause  the  savages  engaged  in  it  had  learned  from 
the  whites  how  to  fight,  and  because  many  of  their 
chiefs  were  educated  half-breeds,  familiar  with  the 
country  and  with  all  the  points  of  weakness  on  the 
part  of  the  settlers.  Stockade  forts  were  built  in 
various  places,  and  in  these  the  settlers  took  refuge, 
leaving  their  fields  to  grow  as  they  might  and  their 
houses  to  be  plundered  and  burned  whenever  the 
Indians  should  choose  to  visit  them.  The  stock 
ades  were  so  built  as  to  enclose  several  acres  each, 
and  strong  block  houses  inside,  furnished  additional 
protection.  Into  these  forts  there  came  men, 
women,  and  children,  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 

each  bringing  as  much  food  as  possible,  and  each 
1* 


10  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

willing  to  lend  a  hand  to  the  common  defence  and 
the  common  support. 

On  the  3oth  of  August,  the  Indians  attacked 
Fort  Mims,  one'of  the  largest  of  the  stockade  stations, 
and  after  a  desperate  battle  destroyed  it,  killing  all 
but  seventeen  of  the  five  hundred  and  fifty  people 
who  were  living  in  it.  The  news  of  this  terrible 
slaughter  quickly  spread  over  the  country,  and 
everybody  knew  now  that  a  general  war  had  begun, 
in  which  the  Indians  meant  to  destroy  the  whites 
utterly,  not  sparing  even  the  youngest  children. 

Those  who  had  remained  on  their  farms  now 
flocked  in  great  numbers  to  the  forts,  and  every 
effort  was  made  to  strengthen  the  defences  at  all 
points.  The  men,  including  all  the  boys  who  were 
large  enough  to  point  a  gun  and  pull  a  trigger, 
were  organized  into  companies  and  assigned  to 
port-holes,  in  order  that  each  might  know  where 
to  go  to  do  his  part  of  the  fighting  whenever  the 
Indians  should  come.  Even  those  of  the  women 
who  knew  how  to  shoot,  insisted  upon  being  pro 
vided  with  guns  and  assigned  to  posts  of  duty. 
There  was  not  only  no  use  in  flinching,  but  every 
one  of  them  knew  that  whenever  the  fort  should 


SINQUEFIELD.  !  r 

be  attacked  the  only  question  to  be  decided  was, 
"  Shall  we  beat  the  savages  off,  or  shall  every  man 
woman  and  child  of  us  be  butchered  ? "  They  could 
not  run  away,  for  there  was  nowhere  to  run, 
except  into  the  hands  of  the  merciless  foe.  The 
life  of  every  one  of  them  was  involved  in  the 
defence  of  the  forts,  and  each  was,  therefore, 
anxious  to  do  all  he  could  to  make  the  defense  a 
successful  one.  Their  only  hope  was  in  desperate 
courage,  and,  being  Americans,  their  courage  was 
equal  to  the  demand  made  upon  it.  It  was  not  a 
civilized  war,  in  which  surrenders,  and  exchanges 
of  prisoners,  and  treaties  and  flags  of  truce,  or  even 
neutrality  offered  any  escape.  It  was  a  savage 
war,  in  which  the  Indians  intended  to  kill  all  the 
whites,  old  and  young,  wherever  they  could  find 
them.  The  people  in  the  forts  knew  this,  and 
they  made  their  arrangements  accordingly. 

Now  if  the  boys  and  girls  who  read  this  story 
will  get  their  atlases  and  turn  to  the  map  of 
Alabama,  they  will  find  some  points,  the  relative 
positions  of  which  they  must  remember  if  they 
wish  to  understand  fully  the  happenings  with 
which  we  have  to  do.  Just  below  the  June- 


12  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

tion  of  the  Alabama  and  Tombigbee  rivers,  on  the 
east  side  of  the  stream,  they  will  find  the  little 
town  of  Tensaw,  and  Fort  Mims  stood  very  near 
that  place.  The  peninsula  formed  by  the  two 
rivers  above  their  junction  is  now  Clarke  County, 
and  almost  exactly  in  its  centre  stands  the  village 
of  Grove  Hill.  A  mile  or  two  to  the  north-east 
stood  Fort  Sinquefield.  Fort  White  was  several 
miles  further  west,  and  Fort  Glass,  afterwards 
called  Fort  Madison,  stood  fifteen  miles  south,  at 
a  point  about  three  miles  south  of  the  present 
village  of  Suggsville.  On  the  eastern  side  of  the 
Alabama  river  is  the  town  of  Claiborne,  and  at  a 
point  about  three  miles  below  Claiborne  the  prin 
cipal  events  of  this  story  occurred.  It  will  not 
hurt  you,  boys  and  girls,  to  learn  a  little  accurate 
geography,  by  looking  up  these  places  before 
going  on  with  the  story,  and  if  I  were  your  school 
master,  instead  of  your  story  teller,  I  should  stop 
here  to  advise  you  always  to  look  on  the  map  for 
every  town,  river,  lake,  mountain  or  other  geo 
graphical  thing  mentioned  in  any  book  or  paper 
you  read.  I  would  advise  you,  too,  if  I  were  your 
schoolmaster,  to  add  up  all  the  figures  given  in 


SINQ  UE  FIELD.  1 3 

books  and  newspapers,  to  see  if  the  writers  have 
made  any  mistakes ;  and  it  is  a  good  plan  too,  to  go 
at  once  to  the  dictionary  when  you  meet  a  word 
you  do  not  quite  comprehend,  or  to  the  encyclo 
paedia  or  history,  or  whatever  else  is  handy,  when 
ever  you  read  about  anything  and  would  like  to 
know  more  about  it.  I  say  I  should  stop  here  to 
give  you  some  such  advice  as  this,  if  I  were  your 
schoolmaster.  As  I  am  not,  however,  I  must  go 
on  with  my  story  instead. 

Within  a  mile  or  two  of  Fort  Sinquefield 
lived  a  gentleman  named  Hardwicke.  He  was  a 
widower  with  three  children.  Sam,  the  oldest  of 
the  three,  was  nearly  seventeen ;  Tommy  was  eleven', 
and  a  little  girl  of  seven  years,  named  Judith,  but 
called  Judie,  was  the  other.  Mr.  Hardwicke  was  a 
quiet,  studious  man,  who  had  come  to  Alabama 
from  Baltimore,  not  many  years  before,  and  since 
the  death  of  his  wife  he  had  spent  most  of  his 
time  in  his  library,  which  was  famous  throughout 
the  settlement  on  account  of  the  wonderful  num 
ber  of  books  it  contained.  There  were  hardly  any 
schools  in  Alabama  in  those  days,  and  Mr.  Hard 
wicke,  being  a  man  of  education  and  considerable 


I4  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

wealth,  gave  up  almost  the  whole  of  his  time  to 
his  children,  teaching  them  in  doors  and  out,  and 
directing  them  in  their  reading.  It  was  under 
stood  that  Sam  would  be  sent  north  to  attend 
College  the  next  year,  and  meantime  he  had 
become  a  voracious  reader.  He  read  all  sorts  of 
books,  and  as  he  remembered  and  applied  the 
things  he  learned  from  them,  it  was  a  common 
saying  in  the  country  round  about,  that  "Sam 
Hardwicke  knows  pretty  nearly  everything."  Of 
course  that  was  not  true,  but  he  knew  a  good 
deal  more  than  most  of  the  men  in  the  country, 
and  better  than  all,  he  knew  how  very  much  there 
-was  for  him  yet  to  learn.  A  boy  has  learned  the 
very  best  lesson  of  his  life  when  he  knows  that  he 
really  does  not  know  much ;  it  is  a  lesson  some  peo 
ple  never  learn  at  all.  But  books  were  not  the 
only  things  Sam  Hardwicke  was  familiar  with. 
He  could  ride  the  worst  horses  in  the  country  and 
shoot  a  rifle  almost  as  well  as  Tandy  Walker  him 
self,  and  Tandy,  as  every  reader  of  history  knows, 
was  the  most  famous  rifleman,  as  well  as  the  best 
guide  and  most  daring  scout  in  the  whole  south 
west.  Sam  had  hunted,  too,  over  almost  every 


SINQ  UE FIELD.  1 5 

inch  of  country  within  twenty  miles  around,  trudg 
ing  alone  sometimes  for  a  week  or  a  fortnight 
before  returning,  and  in  this  way  he  had  learned 
to  know  the  distances,  the  directions,  and  the 
nature  of  the  country  lying  between  different 
places, — a  knowledge  worth  gaining  by  anybody, 
and  especially  valuable  to  a  boy  who  lived  in  a 
frontier  settlement.  He  was  strong  of  limb  and 
active  as  he  was  strong,  and  his  "  book  knowledge," 
as  the  neighbors  called  it,  served  him  many  a  good 
turn  in  the  woods,  when  he  was  beset  by  difficul 
ties. 

Sam's  father  was  one  of  the  very  last  of  the 
settlers  to  go  into  a  fort.  He  remained  at  home 
as  long  as  he  could,  and  went  to  Fort  Sinque- 
field  at  last,  only  when  warned  by  an  Indian  who 
for  some  reason  liked  him,  that  he  and  his  chil 
dren's  lives  were  in  imminent  danger.  That  was 
on  the  first  of  September,  and  when  the  Hardwicke 
family,  black  and  white,  were  safely  within  the 
little  fortress,  there  remained  outside  only  two 
families,  namely,  those  of  Abner  James  and  Ran 
som  Kimball,  who  determined  to  remain  one  more 
night  at  Kimball's  house,  two  miles  from  Sinque- 


16  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

field.  That  very  night  the  Indians,  under  Francis 
the  prophet,  burned  the  house,  killing  twelve  of 
the  inmates.  Five  others  escaped,  and  one.  of 
them,  Isham  Kimball,  who  was  then  a  boy  of  six 
teen,  afterwards  became  Clerk  of  Clarke  County, 
where  he  was  still  living  in  1857. 


THE  STORMING   OF  SINQUEFIELD. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    STORMING    OF    SINQUEFIELD. 

HEN  the  news  of  the  massacre  at  Kim- 
ball's  reached  Fort  Glass,  a  detachment 
of  ten  men  was  sent  out  to  recover  the 
bodies,  which  they  brought  to  Fort  Sinquefield 
for  burial.  The  graves  were  dug  in  a  little 
valley  three  or  four  hundred  yards  from  the 
fort,  and  all  the  people  went  out  to  attend  the 
funeral.  The  services  had  just  come  to  an 
end  when  the  cry  of  "  Indians !  Indians !  "  was 
raised,  and  a  body  of  warriors,  under  the  prophet 
Francis,  dashed  down  from  behind  a  hill,  upon  the 
defenceless  people,  whose  guns  were  inside  the 
fort  The  first  impulse  of  every  one  was  to  catch 
up  the  little  children  and  hasten  inside  the  gates, 
but  it  was  manifestly  too  late.  The  Indians  were 
already  nearer  the  fort  than  they,  and  were  run- 


1 8  .    THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ning  with  all  their  might,  brandishing  their  knives 
and  tomahawks,  and  yelling  like  demons. 

There  seemed  no  way  of  escape.  Sam  Hard- 
wicke  took  little  Judie  up  in  his  arms,  and,  quick 
as  thought  calculated  the  chances  of  reaching  the 
fort.  Clearly  the  only  way  in  which  he  could  pos 
sibly  get  there,  was  by  leaving  his  little  sister  to 
her  fate  and  running  for  his  life.  But  Sam  Hard- 
wicke  was  not  the  sort  of  boy  to  do  anything  so 
cowardly  as  that.  Abandoning  the  thought  of 
getting  to  the  fort,  he  called  to  Tom  to  follow  him, 
and  with  Judie  in  his  arms,  he  ran  into  a  neigh 
boring  thicket,  where  the  three,  with  Joe,  a  black 
boy  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  who  had  followed 
them,  concealed  themselves  in  the  bushes.  Wheth 
er  they  had  been  seen  by  the  Indians  or  not,  they 
had  no  way  of  knowing,  but  their  only  hope  of 
safety  now  lay  in  absolute  stillness.  They  crouched 
down  together  and  kept  silence. 

"  What's  we  gwine  to  do  here,  I  wonder," 
whispered  the  black  boy.  "  Whar  mus'  we  go,  Mas 
Sam  ? " 

Sam  did  not  answer.  He  was  too  much 
absorbed  in  studying  the  situation  to  talk  or  even 


THE  STORMING   OF  SINQUE 'FIELD.  I9 

to  listen.  The  Indians  were  coming  down  upon  the 
white  people  from  every  side,  and  the  only  wonder 
was  that  Sam's  little  party  had  managed  to  find  a 
gap  in  their  line  big  enough  to  escape  through. 

"  Be  patient,  Joe,"  said  little  Judie,  in  the  calmest 
voice  possible.  "  Brother  Sam  will  take  care  of  us. 
Give  him  time.  He  always  does  know  what  to  do." 

"  Be  still,  Joe,"  said  Sam.  "  If  you  talk  that  In 
dian  '11  see  us,"  pointing  to  one  not  thirty  steps 
distant,  though  Joe  had  not  yet  seen  him. 

A  terrified  "  ugh  ! "  was  all  the  reply  Joe  could 
make. 

Meantime  the  situation .  of  the  fort  people  was 
terrible.  Cut  off  from  the  gates  and  unarmed, 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  for  them  to  do  except 
to  meet  death  as  bravely  and  calmly  as  they  could. 
A  young  man  named  Isaac  Harden  happened  to  be 
near  the  gates,  however,  on  horseback,  and  accom 
panied  by  a  pack  of  about  sixty  hounds.  And 
this  young  man,  whose  name  has  barely  crept  into 
a  corner  of  history,  was  both  a  hero  and  a  military 
genius,  and  he  did  right  then  and  there,  a  deed 
as  brilliant  and  as  heroic  as  any  other  in 
history.  Seeing  the  perilous  position  of  the  fort 


20  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

people,  he  raised  himself  in  his  stirrups  and  wav 
ing  his  hat,  charged  the  savages  with  his  pack  of 
dogs,  whooping  and  yelling  after  the  manner  of  a 
huntsman,  and  leading  the  fierce  bloodhounds 
right  into  the  ranks  of  the  infuriated  Indians. 
The  dogs  being  trained  to  chase  and  seize  any 
living  thing  upon  which  their  master  might  set 
them,  attacked  the  Indians  furiously,  Harden  en 
couraging  them  and  riding  down  group  after  group 
of  the  bewildered  savages.  Charging  right  and 
left  with  his  dogs,  he  succeeded  in  putting  the 
Indians  for  a  time  upon  the  defensive,  thus  giving 
the  white  people  time  to  escape  into  the  fort. 
When  all  were  in  except  Sam's  party  and  a  Mrs. 
Phillips  who  was  killed,  Harden  began  looking 
about  him  for  a  chance  to  secure  his  own  safety. 
His  impetuosity  had  carried  him  clear  through 
the  Indian  ranks,  and  the  savages,  having  beaten 
the  dogs  off,  turned  their  attention  to  the  young 
cavalier  who  had  balked  them  in  the  very  moment 
of  their  victory.  They  were  between  him  and  the 
gates,  hundreds  against  one.  His  dogs  were 
killed  or  scattered,  and  he  saw  at  a  glance  that 
there  was  little  hope  for  him.  The  woods  behind 


SAM'S   PARTY. 


THE  STORMING  OF  SI&QUEFIELD.  2l 

him  were  full  of  Indians,  and  so  retreat  was  impos 
sible.  Turning  his  horse's  head  towards  the  gates, 
he  plunged  spurs  into  his  side,  and  with  a  pistol 
in  each  hand,  dashed  through  the  savage  ranks, 
firing  as  he  went.  Blowing  a  blast  upon  his  horn 
to  recall  those  of  his  dogs  which  were  still  alive, 
he  escaped  on  foot  into  the  fort,  just  in  time  to  let 
the  gate  shut  in  the  face  of  the  foremost  Indian. 
His  hors_e,  history  tells  us,  was  killed  under  him, 
and  he  had  five  bullet  holes  through  his  clothes, 
but  his  skin  was  unbroken. 

Francis  and  his  followers  were  balked  but  not 
beaten.  Retiring  for  a  few  minutes  behind  the 
hill,  they  rallied  and  came  again  to  the  assault, 
more  furiously  than  ever.  Their  savage  instincts 
were  thoroughly  aroused  by  the  unexpected  defeat 
they  had  sustained  in  the  very  moment  of  their 
victory,  and  they  were  determined  now  to  take  the 
fort  at  any  cost.  Their  plan  of  attack  showed 
the  skill  of  their  leader,  who  was  really  a  man  of 
considerable  ability  in  spite  of  his  fanatical  belief 
in  his  own  prophetic  gifts.  He  avoided  both  the 
errors  usually  committed  by  Indian  leaders  in 
storming  fortified  places.  He  refused,  on  the  one 


22  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

hand,  to  let  his  men  waste  their  powder  and 
their  time  in  desultory  firing,  and,  on  the  other,  he 
decided  not  to  risk  everything  on  the  hazard  of 
a  single  assault.  His  plan  was  to  take  the  fort  by 
storm,  but  the  storming  was  to  be  done  system 
atically.  Dividing  his  force  into  two  parts,  he  sent 
one  to  the  attack,  and  held  the  other  back  in  the. 
hope  that  the  first  would  gain  a  position  so  near  the 
stockade  as  to  make  the  assault  of  the  second,  led 
by  himself,  doubly  sure  of  success.  The  plan  was 
a  good  one,  without  doubt,  and  no  man  was  better 
qualified  than  Francis  to  carry  it  out. 

When  the  storming  party  came,  the  people  in 
the,  fort  were  ready  for  it.  Counting  out  the 
women  and  children,  their  numbers  were  not  large, 
but  they  were  a  brave  and  determined  set  of  men 
and  boys,  who  knew  very  well  in  what  kind  of  a 
struggle  they  were  engaged.  They  reserved  their 
fire  until  the  Indians  were  within  thirty  yards,  of 
the  fort,  and  then  delivered  it  as  rapidly  as  they 
could,  taking  care  to  waste  none  of  it  by  random  or 
careless  shooting.  The  fort  consisted,  as  all  the 
border  fortifications  did,  of  a  simple  stockade,  in 
side  of  which  was  a  block-house  for  the  protection 


THE  STORMING   OF  SINQUEFIELD.  23 

of  the  women  and  children,  and  designed  also  as  a 
sort  of  "  last  ditch,"  in  which  a  desperate  resistance 
could  be  made,  even  after  the  fort  had  been  carried. 
The  stockade  was  made  of  the  trunks  of  pine-trees 
set  on  end  in  the  ground,  close  together,  but  pierced 
at  intervals  with  port-holes,  through  which  the 
men  of  the  garrison  could  fire.  Such  a  stockade 
afforded  an  excellent  protection  against  the  bullets 
and  the  arrows  of  the  Indians,-and  gave  its  defend 
ers  a  great  advantage  over  the  assailing  force, 
which  must,  of  course,  be  exposed  to  a  galling  fire 
from  the  men  behind  the  barriers.  As  the  stock 
ade  was  about  fifteen  feet  high,  climbing  over  it 
was  almost  wholly  out  of  the  question,  and  the 
only  way  to  take  the  fort  was  to  rush  upon  it  with 
fence  rails,  stop  up  the  port-holes  immediately  in 
front,  and  keep  so  close  to  the  stockade  as  to 
escape  the  fire  from  points  to  the  right  and  left, 
while  en^aofed  in  cutting  down  the  timber  barrier. 

o    o  o 

If  the  Indians  could  do  this,  their  superior  num 
bers  would  enable  them  to  rush  in  through  the  open 
ing  thus  made,  and  then  the  block-house  would 
be  the  only  refuge  left  to  the  white  people.  The 
block-house  was  a  building  made  of  very  large 


24  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

timbers,  hewed  square,  laid  close  upon  each  other 
and  notched  to  an  exact  fit  at  the  ends.  It  had  but 
one  entrance,  and  that  was  near  the  top.  This  could 
be  reached  only  by  a  ladder,  and  should  the  Indians 
gain  access  to  the  fort,  the  whites  would  retire,  fight 
ing,  to  this  building,  and  when  all  were  in,  the  ladder 
would  be  drawn  in  after  them.  From  the  port-holes 
of  the  block-house  a  fierce  fire  could  be  delivered, 
and  as  the  square  timbers  were  not  easily  set  on  fire, 
a  body  of  Indians  must  be  very  determined  indeed, 
if  they  succeeded  in  taking  or  destroying  a  block 
house.  At  Fort  Mims,  however,  they  had  done 
so,  burning  the  house  over  the  heads  of  the  in 
mates. 

The  reader  will  understand,  from  this  descrip 
tion  of  the  fort,  how  possible  it  was  for  the  people 
within  it  to  withstand  a  very  determined  attack, 
and  to  inflict  heavy  loss  upon  the  savages,  without 
suffering  much  in  their  turn.  Francis's  men 
charged  furiously  upon  the  silent  stockade,  but 
were  sent  reeling  back  as  soon  as  they  had  come 
near  enough  for  the  riflemen  within  to  fire  with 
absolute  accuracy  of  aim.  Then  the  second  body, 
under  Francis  himself,  charged,  but  with  no  better 


THE  STORMING   OF  SINQUEFIELD.  2$ 

success.     A  pause  followed,  and  another   charge 
was  made  just  before  nightfall. 

This  time  some  of  the  savages  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  stockade  and  stopping  up  some  of 
the  port-holes.  They  cut  down  a  part  of  the  pick 
ets  too,  and  had  their  friends  charged  again  at 
once,  the  fort  would  undoubtedly  have  been  carried. 
As  it  was,  Francis  saw  fit  to  draw  off  his  men,  for 
the  time  at  least,  and  retire  beyond  the  hill.  What 
was  now  to  be  done  ?  The  attack  had  been  re 
pulsed,  but  it  might  be  renewed  at  any  moment. 
The  Indians  had  suffered  considerably,  while  the 
casualties  within  the  fort  were  limited  to  the  loss 
of  one  man  and  one  boy.  But  the  obstinate  deter 
mination  of  Francis  was  well  known,  and  it  was 
certain  that  he  had  not  finally  abandoned  his  pur 
pose  of  taking  the  little  fort.  He  had  already 
demonstrated  his  ability  to  carry  the  place,  and  it 
was,  at  the  least,  likely  that  he  would  come  again 
within  twenty-four  hours,  probably  with  a  larger 
force,  and  should  he  do  so,  the  little  garrison  was 
not  in  condition  to  repel  his  attack.  To  remain 
in  the  fort,  therefore,  was  certain  destruction ; 
but  the  country  was  full  of  savages,  and  to  at- 

2 


26  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

tempt  a  march  to  Fort  Glass,  fifteen  miles  away, 
which  was  the  nearest  available  place,  the  other 
forts  being  difficult  to  reach,  was  felt  to  be 
almost  equally  hazardous.  A  council  was  held, 
and  it  was  finally  determined  that  the  perilous 
march  to  Fort  Glass  must  be  undertaken  at  all 
hazards.  Accordingly,  not  long  after  nightfall 
the  whole  garrison,  men,  women  and  children, 
stealthily  left  the  fort  and  silently  crept  away  to 
the  south. 

Sam  had  seen  the  dog  charge  and  the  escape 
of  the  whites  into  the  fort. 

"  What  a  fool  I  was ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  not  to 
stay  where  I  was !  We  might  have  got  in  with 
the  rest  of  them." 

"  Why  can't  we  go  to  de  fort  now,  or  leastways, 
as  soon  as  de  Injuns  goes  away  ? "  asked  Joe. 

"  They  aint  going  away,"  said  Sam.  "  They're 
going  to  storm  the  fort, — look,  they're  coming  right 
here  for  a  starting-point,  and  '11  be  on  top  of  us  in 
a  minute.  Come ! — don't  make  any  noise,  but  fol 
low  me.  Crawl  on  your  hands  and  knees,  and  don't 
raise  your  heads.  Look  out  for  sticks.  If  you 
break  one,  the  Indians  '11  hear  it." 


THE  STORMING  OF  SINQUEFIELD.  2; 

"  Mas'  Sam  —  dey's  Injuns  ahead'n  us  an' 
a-comin  right  torge  us  too.  Look  dar!" 

Sam  looked,  and  saw  a  body  of  Indians  just  in 
front  of  him  coming  to  reinforce  the  others.  He 
and  his  friends  were  cut  off  between  two  bodies  of 
savages. 

"  Lie  down  and  be  still,"  he  whispered.  "  It's 
all  we  can  do — and  I'm  to  blame  for  it  all ! " 


28  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SAM'S  LECTURE. 

I  HE  people  of  the  fort  made  no  search 
for  Sam  and  his  companions ;  not  be 
cause  they  cared  nothing  for  them,  but 
simply  because  they  believed  them  certainly 
dead.  Mr.  Hardwicke,  himself,  had  seen  Sam 
start  with  little  Judie  towards  the  fort,  before 
the  dog  charge  was  made,  and  as  neither  the 
boys  nor  Judie  had  ever  reached  the  gates,  he 
had  no  doubt  whatever  that  his  three  children 
were  slain,  as  was  Mrs.  Phillips,  the  only 
other  person  who  had  failed  to  get  inside  the 
stockade.  Mr.  Hardwicke  wished  to  go  out  in 
search  of  their  bodies,  but  was  overruled  by  his 
companions,  who,  knowing  that  the  savages  were 
still  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  thought  it  simply  a 
reckless  and  unnecessary  risk,  to  go  hunting  for 


SAM'S  LECTURE.  29 

the  bodies  of  their  friends  hundreds  of  yards  away, 
and  immediately  in  front  of  the  place  at  which  the 
Indians  were  last  seen.  The  idea  was  abandoned, 
therefore,  and  the  fort  party  marched  away  in  the 
darkness  of  a  cloudy  night,  towards  Fort  Glass. 
Leaving  them  to  find  their  way  if  they  can,  let  us 
return  to  Sam  and  his  little  band.  Seeing  the 
Indians  coming  towards  them,  they  lay  down  in  the 
high  weeds.  The  savages  hurrying  forward  to 
reinforce  their  friends,  passed  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  young  people,  but  did  not  see  them.  The 
storming  of  the  fort  then  began,  and  after  watch 
ing  the  evolutions  of  the  Indians  for  some  time, 
Sam  said : 

"  We  mustn't  stay  here.  Those  red  skins  are 
working  around  this  way,  and  '11  find  us.  Crawl 
on  your  hands  and  knees,  all  of  you,  and  •  follow 
me." 

"  Whar's  ye  gwine  to-,  Mas'  Sam  ? "  asked  Joe. 

"  Sk,  sh"  said  Judie.  "  Don't  talk  Joe,  but  do 
as  Brother  Sam  tells  you.  Don't  you  know  he 
always  knows  what's  best?  Besides,  maybe  he 
hasn't  quite  found  out  where  he's  going  yet,  him 
self." 


30  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

But  Joe  was  not  as  confident  of  Sam's  genius 
for  doing  the  right  thing  as  Judie  was,  and  so, 
after  crawling  for  some  distance,  he  again  broke 
silence. 

"  Miss  Judie." 

"  What  do  you  want,  Joe  ?  "• 

"  Does  you  know  whar  Mas'  Sam's  a-takin'  us 
to,  an'  what  he's  gwine  to  do  when  he  gits  dar? " 

"  No,  of  course  I  don't." 

"  How  you  know  den,  dat  he's  doin'  de  bes' 
thing?" 

But  the  conversation  was  terminated  by  a  word 
from  Sam,  who  said,  in  a  whisper, 

"  Joe,  I'll  tell  you  where  we  re  going  if  you  keep 
talking? 

"  Whar,  Mas'  Sam  ?  " 

"  Into  the  hands  of  the  Indians.     Keep  your 
month  shut,  if  you  don't  want  your  hair  lifted  off 
7your  head." 

As  the  black  boy  certainly  did  not  want  his 
hair  cut  Indian  fashion,  he  became  silent  at 
once. 

When  they  had  travelled  in  this  way  until  they 
could  no  longer  hear  the  yells  of  the  Indians  and 


SAM'S  LECTURE.  31 

the  popping  of  guns  at  the  fort,  Sam  called  a  halt. 
It  was  now  nearly  midnight. 

"  Here  is  a  good  place  to  spend  the  rest  of  the 
night,"  he  said,  "  and  we  must  be  as  still  as  we  can. 
We  can  stay  here  till  to-morrow  night,  and  then 
we  must  try  to  get  to  Fort  Glass.  It's  about 
twelve  or  thirteen  miles  from  here." 

"  Le's  go  on  now,  Mas'  Sam ;  Fse  afeared  to 
stay  here,"  said  the  black  boy. 

"  We  can't,"  said  Sam.  "  I  got  scratched  in 
the  foot  with  astray  bullet,  just  as  we  went  into  the 
thicket  there  at  the  fort,  and  I  can't  walk.  I  am 
a  little  faint  and  must  lie  down." 

At  this  little  Judie,  who  fairly  idolized  Sam, 
and  felt  perfectly  safe  from  Indians  and  every 
thing  else  when  he  was  with  her,  was  disposed  to 
set  up  a  wail  of  sorrow  and  fright.  If  poor  Sam 
were  wounded,  he  might  die,  she  thought,  and  the 
thought  was  too  much  for  her. 

Sam  soothed  her,  however,  and  the  poor,  ti'red 
little  girl  was  soon  fast  asleep  in  his  arms. 

"  Bring  some  moss,  boys,"  he  said  to  his  com 
panions,  and  make  a  bed  for  Judie  here  by  this  log." 

When  he  had  laid  her  down,  he   drew  off  his 


32  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

shoe  and  wrapped  the  wounded  foot  in  some  of 
the  long  gray  moss  which  hangs  in  great  festoons 
from  the  trees  of  that  region.  Joe,  with  the  true 
negro  genius  for  sleeping,  was  already  snoring  at 
the  foot  of  a  tree.  Sam  quietly  called  Tom  to  his 
side. 

"  Tom,"  said  he,  "  my  foot  is  bleeding  pretty 
badly,  and  I  can't  see  till  morning  to  do  anything 
for  it.  I  have  wrapped  it  up  in  moss,  stuffing  the 
softest  parts  into  the  wound,  and  that  may  stop  it 
after  a  while.  But  I  may  not  be  able  to  travel  to 
morrow  night,  and  if  I  can't  you  must  leave  me 
here  and  try  to  find  your  way  to  Fort  Glass,  with 
Judie.  You  must  remember  that  her  life  will 
depend  on  you,  and  try  to  do  your  duty  without 
flinching.  Don't  try  to  travel  in  the  daytime.  Go 
on  to  the  south  as  fast  as  you  can  of  nights,  keep 
ing  in  the  woods  and  thickets,  and  as  soon  as  you 
see  a  streak  of  gray  in  the  sky  find  a  good  hiding- 
place  and  stop.  You  can  get  some  corn  and  some 
sweet  potatoes  out  of  any  field,  but  you  must  eat 
them  raw,  as  it  wont  do  to  make  a  fire.  Now  go 
to  sleep.  I  may  be  able  to  travel  myself,  but  if  I 
shouldn't,  remember  you  are  a  brave  man's  son, 


SAM'S  LECTURE.  33 

and  must  do  your  duty  as  a  Hardwicke  should." 
And  with  that  he  shook  the  little  fellow's  hand. 

After  a  time  Tom,  overcome  by  weariness,  fell 
asleep,  but  Sam  remained  awake  all  night,  trying 
to  staunch  the  flow  of  blood  from  his  foot.  He 

* 

knew  that  if  he  could  go  on  with  the  others  their 
chance  of  safety  would  be  vastly  greater  than  with 
out  him,  and  so  he  was  disposed  to  leave  no  effort 
untried  to  be  in  a  fit  condition  to  travel  the  next 
night.  When  morning  came  Sam  called  Tom 
and  Joe,  and  directed  them  to  examine  his  wound, 
into  which  he  could  not  see  very  well. 

"  Is  the  blood  of  a  bright  red,  as  it  comes  out, 
or  a  dark  red  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Bright,"  they  both  said. 

"  Then  it  comes  from  an  artery,"  he  replied. 
"  Are  you  sure  it  isx bright  red  ? " 

The  boys  were  not  quite  sure. 

"  Does  it  come  in  a  steady  stream  or  in  spurts  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"It  spurts,  and  stops  and  spurts  again,"  said  Tom. 

"  It  is  an  artery,  then,"  said  Sam.  "  Look  and 
see  if  you  can  find  the  place  it  comes  from." 

The  boys  made  a  careful  examination  and  at 


34  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

last  found  the  artery,  a  small  one,  which  was  cut 
only  about  half  way  across. 

"  All  right,"  said  Sam.  "  If  that's  the  case,  I 
think  I  know  how  to  stop  the  blood.  Put  your 
finger  in,  and  break  the  artery  clear  in  two!' 

"  O  Sam,  then  you'll  bleed  to  death,"  said  Tom. 

"  No  I  won't.     Do  as  I  tell  you." 

"  Let  me  cut  it,  then.  It  wont  hurt  you  so 
much." 

"  No,  no,  no,"  cried  Sam,  staying  his  hand. 
"  Don't  cut  it.  Tear  it,  I  tell  you,  and  be  quick." 

Tom  tore  it,  and  the  blood  stopped  almost 
immediately.  Sam  then  bound  the  foot  up  with 
strips  of  cloth  torn  from  his  clothing,  and  as  he 
did  so  said : 

"  Now  I'll  tell  you  both  all  about  this  so  that 
you'll  know  what  to  do  another  time.  If  you  know 
only  what  to  do,  you  may  forget ;  but  if  you  know 
why,  you'll  remember.  The  blood  comes  out  from 
the  heart  to  all  parts  of  the  body  in  arteries,  and 
when  it  leaves  the  heart  it  is  bright  red,  because  it 
is  clean  and  pure.  Your  heart  is  a  sort  of  force- 
pump,  and  every  time  it  beats  it  forces  the  blood 
all  over  you.  The  arteries  fork  and  branch  out  in 


SAWS  LECTURE.  35 

every  direction,  until  they  terminate  in  millions  of 
little  veins  smaller  than  the  finest  hairs,  and  these 
running  together  make  bigger  veins,  through 
which  the  blood  is  carried  to  the  lungs.  In  the 
veins  it  flows  steadily,  because  the  capillary  veins, 
the  ones  like  hairs,  are  so  small  that  the  spurts 
can't  be  felt  beyond  them.  The  blood  in  the  veins 
is  thick  and  dark,  because  it  has  taken  up  all  the 
impurities  from  the  system ;  but  when  it  gets  to 
the  lungs  your  breath  takes  up  all  these  and  carries 
them  off,  leaving  the  blood  pure  again  for  another 
round.  Now  the  arteries  are  long  elastic  tubes, 
that  is  to  say,  they  will  stretch  a  little,  and  fly 
back  again,  if  you  pull  them,  and  when  one  is  cut 
nearly  but  not  quite  off,  the  contraction  keeps  it 
wide  open.  If  it  is  cut  or  torn  entirely  in  two,  the 
end  draws  back,  and  nine  times  in  ten,  if  the  artery 
is  a  small  one,  the  drawing  back  shuts  the  end  up 
entirely  and  the  blood  stops.  But  it  is  better  to 
tear  it  than  to  cut  it,  because  when  torn  the  edges 
are  jagged  and  it  shrivels  up  more.  I  don't  quite 
understand  why,  myself,  but  that  is  what  the  sur 
gical  books  say.  When  anybody  is  hurt  and 
bleeding  badly,  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  find  out 


36  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

whether  it  is  an  artery  or  a  vein  that's  cut.  If  the 
blood  is  bright  and  comes  out  in  spurts,  it's  an 
artery.  If  it  is  dark,  and  flows  steadily,  it's  a  vein. 
If  it's  an  artery  and  isn't  cut  quite  in  two,  tear 
it  in  two.  If  that  don't  .stop  it,  you  must  make  a 
knot  in  a  handkerchief  and  then  press  your  finger 
above  the  cut  in  different  places  till  you  find  where 
the  artery  is  by  the  blood  stopping.  Then  put  the 
knot  on  that  place  and  tie  the  handkerchief  around 
the  limb.  You  can  stop  a  vein  in  the  same  way  and 
more  easily,  but  if  it's  a  vein  you  must  tie  the 
handkerchief  so  that  the  cut  place  will  be  between 
it  and  the  heart.  You  see  the  blood  comes  from 
the  heart  in  the  arteries,  and  goes  back  towards 
the  heart  in  the  veins,  and  so  to  stop  an  artery 
you  tie  inside,  and  to  stop  a  vein  outside  of  the 
cut  place." 

I  think  it  altogether  probable  that  Master  Sam 
would  have  gone  into  quite  a  lecture  on  anatomy 
and  minor  surgery,  if  little  Judie  had  not  waked 
up  just  then  complaining  of  hunger.  What  he 
told  the  boys,  however,  is  well  worth  remembering. 
He  took  little  Judie  on  his  lap  and  sent  the  two 
boys  out  to  find  a  field  of  potatoes  or  corn.  When 


SAM'S  LECTURE.  37 

they  came  back  all  four  made  a  breakfast  of  raw 
sweet  potatoes,  drinking  water  wjiich  Tom  brought 
in  his  wool  hat  from  a  creek  not  very  far  away. 
Sam  grew  stronger  during  the  day,  and  at  night 
the  party  set  out  on  their  way  to  Fort  Glass. 
Sam's  foot  was  not  painful,  but  he  was  afraid  of 
starting  the  blood  again,  and  so  he  held  it  up, 
walking  with  a  rude  crutch  which  he  had  made 
during  the  day. 


3 8  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

SAM    FINDS    IT    NECESSARY    TO    THINK. 

|T  was  twelve  miles  from  their  first  encamp 
ment  to  Fort  Glass,  and  if  Sam  had  been 
strong  and  well,  and  the  way  open,  they 
might  easily  have  made  the  journey  before  morning, 
by  carrying  little  Judie  a  part  of  the  way.  As  it  was, 
they  had  to  go  through  the  thickest  woods  to  avoid 
Indians,  and  must  move  cautiously  all  the  time,  as 
they  could  never  know  when  they  might  stumble 
upon  a  party  of  savages  around  a  camp-fire,  or 
sleeping  under  a  tree.  Those  of  my  readers  who 
live  in  the  far  South  know  what  thick  woods  are 
in  that  part  of  the  country,  but  others  may  not. 
The  trees  grow  as  close  together  as  they  can,  and 
the  underbrush  chokes  up  the  space  between 
them  pretty  effectually.  Then  the  great  vines  of 
various  kinds  wind  themselves  in  and  out  until  in 


SAM<FINDS  IT  NECESSARY  TO  THINK.          39 

many  places  they  literally  stop  the  way  so  that  a 
strong  man  with  an  axe  could  not  go  forward  a 
hundred  feet  in  a  week.  In  other  places  the  thick 
cane  makes  an  equally  impenetrable  barrier,  and 
Sam  needed  all  his  knowledge  of  the  forest  to 
enable  him  to  work  his  way  southward  at  night 
through  such  woods  as  those.  The  little  party  of 
wanderers  sometimes  found  themselves  appar 
ently  walled  in  in  the  pitchy  darkness,  with  no 
possible  way  out  but  Sam's  instinct,  as  he  called 
it,  which  was  simply  his  ability  to  remember  the 
things  he  had  learned,  and  to  put  two  facts  to 
gether  to  find  out  a  third,  always  extricated  them. 
Once  they  found  themselves  in  a  swamp,  where 
the  water  was  about  eight  inches  deep.  The 
underbrush,  canes  and  vines  made  it  impos 
sible  for  them  to  see  any  great  distance  in  any 
direction. 

"  Oh,  I  know  we  will  never  get  out  of  here," 
whined  poor  little  Judie,  ready  to  sink  down  in  the 
water. 

"  Yes  we  will,  lady  bird,"  said  Sam  cheerily. 
"  What's  the  good  of  having  a  big  brother  if  he 
can't  take  care  of  you  ?  Tell  me  that,  will  you  ? 


40  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

Keep  your  courage  up,  little  girl,  I  think  I  know 
where  .we  are.  Let  me  think." 

"  I  know  wha'  we  is,  Mas'  Sam,"  said  Joe. 

"  Where,  Joe,"  asked  Sam,  incredulously. 

"We'se  dun'  los', — dat's  wha'  we  is,"  replied 
Joe. 

Sam  laughed. 

"  I  know  more  than  that,"  said  Tom,  "  I  know 
where  we're  lost." 

"Wha',  Mas'  Tom?"  cried  Joe,  eagerly. 

"  In  a  swamp,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  I  know  what  swamp,"  said  Sam,  "  which 
is  better  still.  This  swamp  is  the  low  grounds  of 
a  little  creek,  and  I've  been  in  it  before  to-night. 
I  don't  know  just  which  way  to  go  to  get  out, 
because  I  don't  know  just  what  part  of  the  swamp 
we're  in.  But  if  my  foot  was  well  I'd  soon  find 
out." 

"  How,  Mas'  Sam  ?  " 

"  I'd,  climb  that  sweet  gum  and  look  for  land 
marks." 

"  Lan'  marks  ?  what's  dem,  Mas'  Sam  ?  will 
dey  bite  ? " 

"  No,  Joe,  I  mean  I  would  look  around  and 


SAM  FINDS  IT  NECESSARY  TO  THINK.         41 

find  something  or  other  to  steer  by, — a  house  an 
open  field  or  something." 

"  I  kin  climb,  Mas'  Sam,"  replied  Joe,  "  an'  I'll 
be  up  dat  dar  tree  in  les'n  no  time." 

And  up  the  tree  he  went  as  nimbly  as  any 
squirrel  might.  As  he  went  up,  Sam  cautioned 
him  to  make  no  noise,  and  not  to  shout,  but  to 
look  around  carefully,  and  then  to  come  down  and 
tell  what  he  had  seen. 

"  I  see  a  bigopenin',"  said  Joe,  when  he  reached 
the  ground  again,  "  an'  nigh  de  middle  uv  it  dey's 
a  big  grove,  wid  a  lit'tler  one  jis'  off  to  de  left." 

"  Yes,"  said  Sam,  "  I  thought  you'd  see  that. 
That's  where  Watkins's  house  stood :  now  which 
way  is  it  ?  " 

"  Which-a-way's  what,  Mas'  Sam  ? " 

"  The  opening  with  the  groves  in  it." 

"  I  'clar'  I  dunno,  Mas'  Sam." 

It  had  not  entered  Joe's  head  to  mark  the 
direction,  and  so  he  had  to  climb  the  tree  again. 
In  going  up  and  coming  down,  however,  he  wound 
around  the  tree  two  or  three  times  and  was  no 
wiser  when  he  returned  to  the  ground  than  before 
he  began  his  ascent. 


42  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  Look,  Joe,"  said  Sam.  "  Do  you  see  that 
bright  star  through  the  trees  ?  " 

"  De  brightest  one,  Mas'  Sam  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Yes,  1  sees  it." 

"  Well,  climb  the  tree,  and  when  you  get  to  the 
top,  turn  your  face  towards  that  star.  Then  see 
which  way  the  opening  is,  and  remember  whether 
it  is  straight  ahead  of  you,  behind  you,  or  to  the 
right  or  left." 

Joe  went  up  the  tree  again  and  this  time  man 
aged  to  bring  down  the  information  that  when  he 
looked  at  the  star  the  opening  was  on  his  left. 

With  the  knowledge  of  locality  and  direction 
thus  gained,  Sam  was  not  long  in  finding  his  way 
to  firm  ground  again,  and  as  soon  as  he  did  so  he 
selected  a  hiding-place  for  the  day,  as  the  morning 
was  now  at  hand. 

The  next  night  they  had  fewer  difficulties,  the 
woods  through  which  they  had  to  pass  being  freer 
from  undergrowth  than  those  they  had  already 
traversed,  and  when  the  third  morning  broke  they 
were  within  a  mile  or  two  of  Fort  Glass.  Sam 
thought  at  first  of  pushing  on  at  once  to  the  fort, 


SAM  FINDS  IT  NECESSARY  TO  THINK.          43 

but,  seeing  "  Indian  sign "  in  the  shape  of  some 
smouldering  fires  near  a  spring,  he  abandoned  the 
undertaking  until  night  should  come  again,  and 
hid  his  little  company  in  the  woods.  Something  to 
eat  was  the  one  immediate  necessity.  They  were 
all  nearly  famished,  and  neither  corn  nor  sweet 
potatoes  were  to  be  found  anywhere  in  the  vicinity. 
Sam  directed  the  boys  to  bring  some  rushes  from 
the  creek  bottoms,  and  peeling  these,  he  and  his 
companions  ate  the  pith,  which  is  slightly  succu 
lent  and  in  a  small  degree  nourishing.  Sam  had 
learned  this  fact  by  accident  while  out  hunting 
one  day,  and  Sam  took  care  never  to  forget  any 
thing  which  might  be  useful.  Towards  night, 
when  the  rushes  failed  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  Sam 
was  puzzling  himself  over  the  problem  of  getting 
food,  when  Tom  asked  him  if  he  knew  the  name  of  a 
singular  tree  he  had  seen  while  out  after  rushes. 

"It  has  the  biggest  leaves  I  ever  saw,"  he  said, 
"  and  they  all  grow  right  out  of  its  top.  Some  of 
'em  are  six  feet  long,  and  they've  got  folds  in  'em. 
There  aint  any  limbs  to  the  tree  at  all." 

"  Where  did  you  see  that  ?  "  asked  Sam  eagerly. 

"  Right  over  there,  about  a  hundred  yards." 


44  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  Good !  It's  palmetto.  I  didn't  know  there 
was  one  this  far  from  the  sea  though.  Here,  take 
my  big  knife  and  you  and  Joe  go  and  cut  out  as 
much  as  you  can  of  the  soft  part  just  where  the 
leaves  come  out.  It's  what  they  call  palmetto  cab 
bage,  and  it's  very  good  to  eat  too,  I  can  tell  you." 

The  boys,  after  receiving  minute  instructions, 
went  to  the  palmetto-tree  and  brought  away  several 
pounds  of  the  terminal  bud.  On  this  the  little 
company  made  a  hearty  meal,  finding  the  "  cab 
bage,"  as  it  is  called,  a  well-flavored,  juicy  and  ten 
der  kind  of  white  vegetable  substance,  very  nourish 
ing  and  as  palatable  as  cocoanut,  which  it  closely 
resembles  in  flavor.  Storing  what  was  left  in  their 
pockets,  they  began  to  prepare  for  their  night's 
journey  to  the  fort,  which  they  hoped  to  reach 
within  an  hour  or  two.  They  were  just  on  the 
point  of  starting  when  a  party  of  Indians,  under 
Weatherford,  the  great  half-breed  chief,  who  was 
the  life  and  soul  of  the  war,  rode  across  a  neighbor 
ing  field,  and  settled  themselves  for  supper  within 
a  dozen  yards  of  Sam's  camp.  The  sky  was  over 
cast  with  clouds,  and  so  night  fell  even  more 
quickly  than  it  usually  does  in  Southern  latitudes, 


SAM  FINDS  IT  NECESSARY  TO  THINK.          45 

where  there  is  almost  no  twilight  at  all.  Sam 
made  his  companions  lie  down  at  the  approach  of 
the  savages,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  fairly  dark,  the 
little  party  crept  silently  away.  Before  leaving, 
however,  Sam  had  heard  enough  of  the  conversa 
tion  between  Weatherford  and  Peter  McQueen, 
the  other  great  half-breed  warrior,  to  know  that  he 
could  not  reach  the  fort  that  night.  The  two  half- 
breeds  talked  most  of  the  time  in  English,  and  Sam 
learned  that  they  had  a  large  body  of  Indians  in 
the  vicinity,  who  were  scouring  the  country  around 
Fort  Glass.  Sam  knew  enough  of  Indian  warfare 
to  know  that  there  would  be  numerous  small  par 
ties  of  savage  scouts  lurking  immediately  around 
the  fort  day  and  night,  for  the  purpose  of  picking 
off  any  daring  whites  who  might  venture  outside 
the  gates,  and  especially  any  messenger  who  might 
attempt  to  pass  from  that  to  any  other  fortress. 
He  knew,  therefore,  that  for  some  time  to  come  it 
would  be  impossible  to  reach  Fort  Glass,  and 
penetrating  the  woods  for  a  considerable  distance 
he  stopped  and  sat  down  on  a  log,  burying  his 
face  in  his  hands,  and  telling  his  companions  not 
to  speak  to  him,  as  he  wanted  to  think. 


X 

46  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SAM'S  FORTRESS. 


JAM'S  companions  kept  perfectly  still. 
Their  reverence  for  Sam  had  grown 
with  every  foot  of  their  travels,  and  their 
confidence  in  his  ability  to  get  out  of  any  difficulty, 
and  ultimately  to  accomplish  his  purposes  in  the 
face  of  any  obstacle,  was  now  quite  unbounded. 
And  so,  when  he  told  them  it  was  impossible  to 
reach  the  fort  and  .that  he  wanted  to  think,  they 
patiently  awaited  the  results  of  his  thinking,  con 
fident  that  he  would  presently  hit  upon  precisely 
the  right  thing  to  do. 

After  a  while  he  raised  his  head  from  his  hands 
and  said  : 

"  Come  on,  we  must  get  clear  away  from  here 
before  morning;"  but  he  said  not  a  word  about 


SAWS  FORTRESS.  47 

where  he  was  going.  His  course  was  now  nearly 
southeast,  and  just  as  the  day  was  breaking  he 
stopped  and  said : 

"  There  is  the  river  at  last.  Now  let's  go  to 
sleep." 

They  obeyed  him  unquestioningly,  though 
they  had  not  the  faintest  idea  where  they  were  or 
what  river  it  was  which  he  had  seen  a  little  way 
ahead.  When  Sam  waked  it  was  nearly  noon, 
and  he  ate  a  little  of  the  palmetto  cabbage  left  in 
his  pockets,  while  the  others  slept.  His  face  was 
very  pale,  however,  and  he  sat  very  still  until  his 
companions  aroused  themselves.  Then  he  ex 
plained. 

"  When  I  found  that  we  could  not  get  to  Fort 
Glass,  the  question  was,  where  should  we  go? 
Fort  Stoddart  is  probably  surrounded  by  Indians 
too,  and  so  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  make  our 
way  down  through  the  Tensaw  Country  to  Mobile ; 
but  that  is  about  eighty  or  a  hundred  miles  away, 
and  the  fact  is  I  am  a  little  sick  from  my  wound. 
My  foot  and  leg  are  all  swelled  up,  and  I've  been 
having  a  fever,  so  that  I  can't  travel  much  further. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  the  best  thing  to  do,  under 


48  THE  BTG  BROTHER. 

the  circumstances,  was  to  find  a  good  hiding-place 
where  it  will  be  easy  to  get  something  to  eat,  and 
to  stay  there  till  I  get  better,  or  something  turns 
up,  and  so  I  thought  of  the  Alabama  River  as  the 
very  best  place,  because  mussels  and  things  of  that 
kind  are  better  than  sweet  potatoes,  and  here  we 
are  ;  now  the  next  thing  is  to  find  a  hiding-place, 
and  I  think  I  know  where  one  is.  It  has  a  spring 
by  it,  too,  which  is  a  good  thing,  for  drinking  this 
swamp  and  creek  water  will  make  us  all  sick.  I 
was  all  through  here  on  a  camp-hunt  once,  and  I 
remember  a  place  on  the  other  side  of  the  river 
where  two  big  hollow  trees  stand  right  together 
on  top  of  a  sort  of  bluff.  About  fifty  yards  furtj 
r/own  the  river  there  is  a  spring,  just  under  tlie 
bluff.  We  must  find  the  place  if  we  can,  to-niglt, 
and  to  do  it  we  must  first  get  across  the  river.  If  s 
so  low  now  we  can  easily  wade  it,  I  think,  and 
Judie  can  be  pushed  across  on  a  log." 

As  soon  as  night  fell  the  plan  was  put  into 
execution.  The  river  was  extremely  low  at  the 
time,  and  Sam  was  confident  that  by  choosing  a 
wide  place  for  their  crossing,  they  could  wade  the 
stream  easily ;  but  lest  there  might  be  a  channel 


SAM'S  FORTRESS.  49 

too  deep  for  that,  he  fastened  four  logs  together 
with  grapevines,  and  putting  Judie  oh  this  raft  bade 
the  two  boys  tow  it  over,  telling  them  that  if  they 
should  find  the  water  too  deep  for  wading  at  any 
point,  they  could  easily  support  themselves  by 
clinging  to  the  logs.  They  had  no  difficulty,  how 
ever,  and  were  soon  on  the  east  bank  of  the  stream. 
Sam's  task  was  a  much  harder  one.  The  current 
was  very  rapid  and  the  bottom  too  soft  for  the  easy 
use  of  his  crutch,  while  his  strength  was  almost 
gone.  His  spirit  sustained  him,  however,  and  after 
a  while  he  reached  the  shore.  When  all  were 
landed,  the  search  began  for  the  hiding-place  Sam 
had  described.  It  proved  to  be  more  than  a  mile 
higher  up  the  river,  and  when  they  found  it,  the 
day  was  breaking.  The  trees  were  not  hollow,  as 
Sam  had  supposed.  The  river  bank  in  that  .place 
is  in  three  terraces,  and  the  two-  great  trees  stood 
almost  alone  on  the  second  one  of  these.  The 
sandy  soil  had  been  gradually  washed  out  from 
under  the  great  trunks,  so  that  the  trees  proper 
began  about  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  the  space 
below  being  occupied  by  a  great  net-work  of  ex 
posed  roots,  some  of  them  a  foot  or  two  in  thick- 


50  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ness,  and  others  varying  in  size  all  the  way  down 
to  mere  threads.  The  freshets  which  had  washed 
the  earth  away  from  the  roots,  had  piled  a  great 

mass  of  drift-wood  against  one  side  of  them.     Sam 

0 
made  a  careful  examination  of  the  place,  and  then 

all  went  to  work.  The  two  boys  so  disposed  some 
of  the  drift-wood  as  to  make  a  sort  of  covered  pas 
sage  from  the  edge  of  the  bank  to  the  two  trees 
whose  roots  were  interlaced  with  each  other.  Sam 
cut  away  some  of  the  roots  with  his  jackknife  so 
as  to  make  an  entrance,  and  once  inside  the  circle 
of  outer  roots,  he  was  not  long  in  making  a  roomy 
hiding-place  for  the  whole  party,  immediately 
under  the  great  trees. 

"  We  can  enlarge  our  house  with  our  knives 
whenever  we  choose,"  he  said,  "  and  if  we  stay 
here  long  enough,  we  must  make  Judie  a  room  for 
herself  under  the  other  tree,  with  a  passage  leading 
from  this  into  it." 

Sam  said  this  to  avoid  saying  something  which 
would  have  alarmed  and  distressed  the  others.  In 
truth  he  knew  himself  to  be  really  ill,  and  believed 
that  he  would  be  much  worse  before  being  any 
better.  For  this  reason  he  knew  they  must  have 


SAWS  FORTRESS.  5  i 

more  room  than  the  present  hiding-place  afforded, 
and  it  was  his  plan  to  cut  another  room  under  the 
other  tree,  with  a  very  narrow  passage  between. 
"  Then,"  thought  he,  "  if  the  Indians  find  us  here, 
as  I  am  afraid  they  will,  they  will  find  only  poor 
sick  Sam  here  in  the  outer  room,  and  won't  think 
of  hunting  further."  Sam  thought  he  was  going 
to  die  at  any  rate,  and  his  only  care  now  was  to 
save  the  lives  of  the  others.  He  had  made  them 
gather  some  mussels  at  the  river,  and  some  green 
corn  in  a  neighboring  field,  and  he  now  said  to 
the  two  boys,  "  These  things  must  be  cooked.  It 
will  not  do  for  you  to  eat  them  raw  any  longer. 
Xhey  aren't  wholesome  that  way,  and  so  I've  been 
thinking  of  a  plan  for  cooking  them.  The  spring 
is  down  under  the  lower  bluff,  and  a  fire  down 
there  won't  make  much  smoke  above  the  upper 
banks.  We  must  make  one  out  of  drift-wood,  but 
we  musn't  use  any  pine.  That  smokes  too  much. 
The  fire  must  be  made  in  the  daytime,  because 
at  night  it  would  be  seen  too  far.  You  boys  must 
do  the  cooking,  while  I  keep  a  look-out  for  Indians, 
and  if  any  come  within  sight  you  can  both  get  in 
here  before  they  discover  you,  or  if  they  do  see  you, 


52  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

they  can't  find  you  after  you  run  away  from  the 
fire,  and  they  will  look  for  you  out  in  the  woods 
somewhere.  Nobody  would  think  of  looking  here. 
Now  let  me  tell  you  how  to  cook  the  things.  I 
was  at  a  "  clam  bake  "  in  New  England  once,  and 
I  know  how  to  make  these  mussels  and  corn  taste 
well.  You  must  dig  a  sort  of  fireplace  in  the  sand 
bank  and  build  your  fire  in  there.  When  it  burns 
away  until  you  have  a  good  bank  of  coals,  you 
must  put  down  on  them  a  layer  of  the  corn,  in  the 
shuck,  then  a  layer  of  mussels,  then  a  layer  of 
corn,  and  finally  cover  them  all  up  with  coals  and 
hot  ashes,  and  leave  them  there  for  an  hour  or  two, 
when  they  will  be  cooked  beautifully." 

"But  Mas' -Sam,"  said  Joe. 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  Joe  ?  " 

"  How's  we  gwine  to  git  de  fire  ? " 

"  Well,  how  do  you  think,  Joe  ? " 

"  I  'clare  I  dunno,  Mas'  Sam,  'thout  you  got 
some  flints  an'  punk  in  your  pockets." 

"  No,  I  have  no  flints  and  no  punk,  Joe,  but 
I'm  going  to  get  you  some  fire  when  the  sun  gets 
straight  overhead." 

"  Is  you  gwine  to  git  it  from  de  sun,  Mas'  Sam  ? " 


SAM'S  FORTRESS.  53 

"  Yes." 

"  What  wid,  Mas'  Sam  ?  " 

"  With  water,  Joe." 

"  Wid  water,  Mas'  Sam !  You'se  foolin'.  How 
you  gwine  to  git  fire  wid  water,  Fd  like  to 
know." 

"  Well,  wait  and  see.     I'm  not  fooling." 

To  tell  the  truth,  Tom  was  quite  as  much  at  a  loss 
as  Joe  was,  to  know  how  Sam  could  get  fire  with 
water ;  but  his  confidence  in  his  "  big  brother,"  as 
he  called  Sam,  was  too  perfect  to  admit  of  a  doubt 
or  a  question.  As  for  Judie,  she  would  hardly 
have  raised  her  eyebrows  if  Sam  had  burned 
water,  or  whittled  it  into  dolls'  heads  before  her 
eyes.  She  believed  in  Sam  absolutely,  and  sup 
posed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  he  knew  every 
thing  and  could  do  anything  he  liked.  But  Joe 
was  not  yet  satisfied  that  water  could  be  made  to 
assist  in  the  kindling  of  a  fire.  He  said  nothing 
more,  however,  but  carefully  watched  all  of  Sam's 
preparations. 

That  young  gentleman  began  by  tearing  a  strip 
of  •  cotton  cloth  from  his  shirt,  and  picking  it  to 
pieces.  He  then  gathered  from  the  drift-wood  a 


54  THE  BIG  BROTHER, 

number  of  dry  sticks,  and  broke  and  split  them  up 
very  fine. 

"  We  must  have  a  few  splinters  of  light-wood," 
he  said ;  "  but  after  the  fire  is  once  started,  we 
mustn't  put  any  more  pine  on." 

So  saying,  he  split  off  a  few  splinters  from  a  piece 
of  rich  heart-pine,  which  Southern  people  call 
"light-wood,"  because  the  negroes  use  it  instead 
of  lamps  or  candles. 

"  Come  now,"  said  Sam,  "  it's  nearly  noon,  and 
I  think  I  can  get  fire  for  you.  Go  up  on  top  of 
the  drift-pile,  Tom,  and  look  out  for  Indians.  If 
you  don't  see  any  we  can  all  go  down  to  the  spring 
together  long  enough  to  start  a  fire.  Then  I  must 
come  back  to  Judie,  and  I'll  keep  a  look-out  for 
Indians  while  you  and  Joe  get  the  corn  on.  When 
you  get  it  on,  come  back  here  and  wait  until  it 
has  time  to  cook.  Stop  a  minute,  Tom.  Let's 
understand  each  other.  If  the  one  on  the  look-out 
sees  Indians,  he  must  let  the  others  know ;  but  it 
won't  do  to  hollow.  Let  me  see.  Can  you  whistle 
like  a  kildee,  Tom  ? " 

"  Yes,  or  like  any  other  bird." 

"  Can  you,  Joe  ?  " 


SAM'S  FORTRESS  55 

"  I  reckon  I  kin,  Mas'  Sam,"  said  Joe,  who,  to 
prove  his  powers  straightway  gave  a  shrill  kildee 
whistle,  which  nearly  deafened  them  all. 

"  There,  that  '11  do,  Joe.  Well,  let's  understand 
then,  that  if  anyone  of  us  sees  Indians,  he  must 
whistle  like  a  kildee.  If  the  Indians  hear  it  they  '11 
think  nothing  of  it." 

Tom  went  to  the  look-out,  and  seeing  no  sav 
ages  anywhere,  returned,  and  the  whofe  party, 
little  Judie  excepted,  proceeded  to  the  spring. 
Sam  then  laid  his  sticks  down-  in  a  pile,  and  taking 
out  his  watch  removed  the  crystal.  This  he  rilled 
with  clear  water  from  the  spring,  and  holding 
it  over  the  cotton  ravellings,  moved  it  up  and 
down  until  the  sunlight,  passing  through  it, 
gathered  itself  into  a  small  bright  spot  on  the 
cotton.  Joe,  eager  to  see,  thrust  his  head  over 
Sam's  shoulder,  and  directly  between  the  glass 
and  the  sun. 

"  Take  your  head  away,  Joe,  or  I'll  have  to 
draw  the  fire  right  through  it,"  said  Sam,  laugh 
ing. 

"  Mercy,  Mas'  Sam,  don't  do  dat.  I'se  'feard 
o'  your  witches'  ways,  anyhow,"  said  Joe,  drawing 


56  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

back.  The  glass  was  again  put  in  position  and 
the  spot  of  bright  sunlight  reappeared.  Presently 
a  little  cloud  of  smoke  rose,  and  a  moment  after 
wards,  the  cotton  was  fairly  afire.  It  was  not  dif 
ficult  now  to  get  the  light-wood  and  dry  sticks  to 
blazing,  and  a  good  fire  was  soon  secured. 

"  Now  boys,"  said  Sam,  "  I'll  go  back  to  the 
drift-pile  and  keep  a  look-out.  If  you  hear  the 
kildee  cfcll,  run  in  as  quickly  as  you  can.  When 
you  get  the  corn  and  mussels  on,  and  covered  up, 
come  back  at  once." 

No  Indians  showing  themselves  .anywhere  in 
the  neighborhood,  the  boys  got  their  dinner  on  or 
rather  in  the  fire,  and  then  returned  to  the  root 
cavern  to  await  the  completion  of  the  cooking 
process.  When  they  were  all  safely  stowed  away 
in  their  places,  Tom  gave  voice  to  the  curiosity 
with  which  he  was  almost  bursting. 

"  Sam,"  he  said,  "how  did  you  do  that? " 

"  How  did  I  do  what,  Tom  ?  " 

"  How  did  you  make  the  sun  set  the  cotton  on 
fire  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  make  you  under 
stand  it  or  not,"  said  Sam,  "  but  I'll  try.  You 


SA  M'S  FOR  TRESS.  5  7 

know  light  always  goes  in   straight  lines,  if  left  to 
itself,  don't  you  ?  "  ' 

"No,  I  didn't  know  that?  " 

"  Yes  you  did,  only  you  never  thought  of  it.  If 
you  want  to    keep   light   out  of   your  eyes,  you 
always  put  your  hand  between  them  and  the  light, 
because  you  know  the  light '  goes  straight  and  so  . 
will  not  go  around  your  hand." 

"Yes,  that  true,  and  when  I  want  to  make  a  shadow 
anywhere,  I  put  something  right  before  the  light." 

"  Certainly.  Well,  the  rays  of  the  sun  all  come 
to  us  straight,  and  side  by  side.  They  are  pretty 
hot,  but  not  hot  enough  to  set  fire  to  anything 
that  way.  But  if  you  can  gather  a  good  many  of 
these  rays  together  and  make  them  all  shine  on 
one  little  spot,  they  will  set  fire  to  whatever  they 
fall  on.  Now  a  piece  of  glass  or  any  other  thing 
that  you  can  see  through  easily, — that  is,  any  trans 
parent  thing,  lets  the  sunlight  through  it,  and  if 
it  is  flat  on  both  sides,  it  doesn't  change  the 
directions  of  the  rays.  But  if  both  sides  are 
rounded  out,  or  if  one  side  is  rounded  out  and 
the  other  side  is  flat,  it  turns  all  the  rays  a 
little,  and  brings  them  right  together  in  a  point 


3* 


5 8  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

not  far  from  the  glass.  If  the  sides  are  hollowed 
in  instead  of  bulging  out,  the  rays  scatter,  and  if 
one  side  bulges  out  and  the  other  bulges  in,  as 
they  do  in  a  watch  crystal,  one  side  scatters  and 
the  other  side  collects  the  rays,  and  so  it  is  the 
same  as  if  the  glass  had  been  perfectly  flat,  one 
side  undoes  the  other's  work.  Now  I  have  no 
glass  which  bulges  out  on  both  sides,  and  none 
that  bulges  out  on  one  side  and  is  flat  on  the  other, 
but  my  watch  crystal  bulges  out  on  one  side  and 
in  on  the  other.  But  when  I  filled  it  with  water, 
the  water  being  as  clear  as  the  glass,  it  made  it 
flat  on  top  and  bulging  underneath,  and  so  it 
gathered  the  sun's  rays  together  in  the  light  spot 
you  saw,  and  set  fire  to  the  cotton." 

"  Yes,  but  why  did  you  have  to  wait  till  noon  ?" 
asked  Tom. 

"  Because  the  glass  must  be  held  right  across 
the  rays  of  light,  and  as  I  couldn't  turn  the  crystal 
to  either  side  without  spilling  the  water,  I  had  to 
use  it  at  noon,  when  the  sun  was  almost  exactly 
overhead,  and  its  rays  came  nearly  straight  down. 
If  I  had  had  a  glass  rounded  out  on  both  sides  I 
could  have  got  fire  any  time  after  the  sun  was 


SAATS  FORTRESS.  59 

well  up  in  the  sky.  Now  let  me  tell  you  what 
they  call  all  these  different  kinds  of  glasses.  One 
that  is  flat  on  one  side  and  bulges  out  on  the  other 
is  called  a  convex  lens ;  if  it  bulges  out  on  both 
sides  it  is  a  double  convex  lens  ;  if  it  is  hollowed  in 
on  one  side  and  flat  on  the  other  it  is  a  concave  lens  ; 
if  hollowed  in  on  both  sides  we  call  it  a  double 
concave  lens ;  and  when  it  is  hollowed  in  on  one 
side  and  bulged  out  on  the  other,  as  any  watch 
crystal  does,  it  is  a  concave  convex  lens^ 

"  Where  did  you  learn  all  that,  Sam  ?  "  asked 
Tom. 

"  I  learned  part  of  it  with  father's  spectacles, 
and  part  out  of  a  book  father  lent  me  when  I 
asked  him  why  I  couldn't  make  the  bright,  hot 
spot  with  a  pair  of  near-sighted  glasses  that  I 
found  in  one  of  mother's  old  work  boxes.  You 
see,  when  people  begin  to  get  old,  their  eyes  flatten 
a  little,  and  so  everything  they  look  at  seems  to  be 
shaved  off.  They  .see  well  enough  at  a  distance, 
but  can't  see  small  things  close  to  them." 

"  Is  that  the  reason  pa  always  looks  over  his 
spectacles  when  he  looks  at  me  ?  "  asked  Judie. 

"  Yes,  little  woman.  He  can't  see  to  read  without 


60  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

his  glasses,  but  he  can  see  you  across  the  room 
without  them,  well  enough.  Well,  to  remedy  this 
defect,  old  people  wear  spectacles  with  double  con 
vex  lenses  in  them.  But  near-sighted  people  have 
exactly  the  opposite  '  trouble.  They  can't  see 
things  except  by  bringing  them  near  their  eyes, 
because  their  eyes  are  not  flat  enough,  and  so 
their  spectacles  are  made  with  double  concave 
lenses.  When  I  asked  father  about  it,  he  gave  me 
a  book  that  explained  it  all,  and  that  is  where  I 
learned  the  little  I  know  about  it." 

"  The  little  !  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  call  a 
good  deal,"  said  Tom.  "  I  never  saw  anybody 
that  knew  half  as  much  as  you  do." 

"  That  is  only  because  we  live  in  a  new  country, 
Tom,  where  there  are  no  very  well  educated  peo 
ple,  and  because  you  don't  know  how  much  there 
is  to  learn  in  the  world.  If  these  Indians  ever  get 
quiet,  .1  hope  to  learn  a  good  deal  more  every  year 
than  I  know  now.  But  it's  time  to  see  about  our 
mussel  bake.  Run  to  the  lookout,  Tom,  and  then 
we  can  all  go  down  and  bring  up  the  dinner." 


SURPRISED.  6 1 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SURPRISED. 

[HE  baked  corn  and  mussels  made  a  savory 
dish,  or  one  which  would  have  been  sa 
vory  enough  but  for  the  absence  of  salt. 
The  boys  knew  well  enough  that  salt  was  not  to 
be  had,  however,  and  so  they  made  a  joke  of  its 
absence,  and  even  pretended  that  they  did  not  like 
their  food  salted  at  any  time.  Little  Judie  was  so 
hungry  that  she  cared  very  little  whether  food 
tasted  well  or  not,  provided  it  satisfied  her  appe 
tite. 

The  rest  and  the  more  wholesome  food  seemed 
to  restore  Sam  to  something  like  his  customary 
strength  during  the  first  ten  days  of  his  stay  in  the 
"  root  fortress,"  as  he  had  named  their  singular 
dwelling.  His  wounded  foot  got  better,  though 
it  was  still  far  from  well,  and,  better  than  all,  his 


62  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

fever  left  him.  As  he  regained  strength  he  began  to 
lay  plans  again.  To  stay  where  they  were  was  well 
enough  as  a  temporary  device  for  escaping  the 
savages,  but  Sam's  main  purpose  now  was  to  get 
the  little  people  under  his  charge  back  to  civiliza 
tion  somewhere,  and  then  to  do  his  part  in  the 
war  between  the  Indians  and  whites.  He  must 
first  find  a  way  to  get  Tom  and  Judie  and  Joe  into 
one  of  the  forts  or  into  some  safe  town,  and  how 
to  do  this  was  the  problem.  He  was  unwilling  to 
take  them  away  from  their  present  pretty  secure 
hiding-place  until  he  could  decide  upon  some 
definite  plan  offering  a  reasonable  prospect  of 
escape.  If  he  could  have  known  as  much  as  we 
now  know  of  the  movements  of  the  savages,  he 
would  have  had  little  difficulty.  The  larger  part 
of  the  Indians  had  left  the  peninsula  now  forming 
Clarke  County,  and  crossed  to  the  south-eastern 
shore  of  the  Alabama  river, — the  side  on  which 
Sam's  root  fortress  stood,  and  if  he  could  have 
known  this,  he  would  have  made  an  effort  to  cross 
the  river  again  and  reach  Fort  Glass.  The 
chief  difficulty  in  the  way  of  this  undertaking  would 
have  been  that  of  crossing  the  river,  which  was 


SURPRISED.  63 

now  swollen  by  recent  rains.  He  knew  nothing 
about  the  matter,  however,  and  as  Fort  Mims, 
the  first  point  attacked  by  the  savages,  was  on  the 
south-east  side  of  the  river,  he  reasoned  that  hav 
ing  afterwards  crossed  to  Clarke  County  the 
Indians  would  not  again  cross  to  the  south-east 
side  in  any  considerable  force.  In  this,  as  we 
know,  he  was  mistaken,  and  the  error  led  him  into 
some  danger,  as  we  shall  see.  Thinking  the  mat 
ter  over,  he  decided  that  his  first  plan  of  a  march 
down  through  the  Tensaw  Country  to  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Mobile  would  be  the  safest  and  best  thing 
to  undertake.  He  was  unwilling,  however,  to  begin 
it  with  his  companions  without  making  a  prelimi 
nary  reconnoissance.  Accordingly  he  explained 
the  plan  to  Tom  and  Joe,  and  said: 

"  I'm  going  to-night  down  towards  old  Fort 
Mims,  to  see  if  the  country  is  pretty  free  from 
Indians,  and  to  find  out  what  I  can  about  the 
chance  of  getting  away  from  here.  I'll  leave  you 
here  with  Judie,  and  you  must  be  extra  careful 
about  exposing  yourselves.  You've  corn  and  mus 
sels  and  sweet  potatoes  enough  already  cooked,  to 
last  you  a  week,  and  I'll  probably  be  back  before 


64  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

that ;  if  not  you  must  eat  them  raw  till  I  do  come  : 
it  won't  do  to  build  a  fire  while  I'm  away."  After 
giving  minute  directions  for  their  guidance  during 
his  absence,  Sam  put  a  sweet  potato  in  one  pocket 
and  an  ear  of  corn  in  the  other,  and  set  out  on  his 
journey,  walking  with  a  stout  stick,  having  dis 
carded  his  crutch  as  no  longer  necessary.  How 
far  he  walked  that  night,  I  am  unable  to  say,  his 
course  being  a  very  circuitous  one.  '  The  moon 
rose  full,  soon  after  dark,  and  shone  so  brightly 
that  Sam  dared  not  cross  the  fields,  but  skirted 
around  them  keeping  constantly  in  the  woods  and 
the  edges  of  canebrakes.  The  next  night  arid 
the  next  he  continued  his  journey,  though  he 
found  the  country  full  of  Indians.  He  saw  their 
"  sign  "  everywhere,  and  now  and  then  saw  some 
of  the  Indians  themselves.  The  fourth  evening 

O 

•  found  him  so  lame  (his  foot  having  swelled  and 
become  painful  again)  that  he  could  not  possibly 
go  on.  He  had  already  gone  far  enough  to  dis 
cover  that  the  country  on  that  side  of  the  river 
was  too  full  of  Indians  for  him  to  carry  his  little 
party  safely  through  it,  and  so  he  determined  to 
work  his  way  back  to  the  root  fortress,  and  try  the 


SURPRISED.  65 

r 

other  side.  Seeing  a  house  in  a  field  near  by  the 
place  in  which  he  had  spent  the  day,  he  resolved 
to  visijj  it  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  away  any 
article  he  could  find  which  might  be  useful  to  him 
in  his  effort  to  provide  for  his  little  band.  In  a 
grove  near  the  house  he  found  a  horse, — a  young 
and  powerful  animal,  and  as  he  feared  his  lame 
ness  would  not  permit  him  to  reach  his  root  for 
tress  again  on  foot,  he  determined  to  ride  the 
animal  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  on  horseback  he 
would  be  in  much  greater  danger  of  discovery  by  the 
Indians  than  on  foot.  The  horse  had  a  bridle  on, 
and  had  evidently  escaped,  probably  during  a 
skirmish,  from  its  white  or  red  master. 

Sam  tied  him  in  the  grove,  and  went  on  to  the 
house,  which  had  been  sacked  and  partially  burned, 
Looking  around  in  the  moonlight,  Sam  discovered 
a  hatchet,  and,  in  the  corner  of  what  had  once 
been  a  store-house,  the  remains  of  a  barrel  of  salt. 
These  were  two  valuable  discoveries.  The  hatchet 
would  be  of  great  service  to  him  not  only  in  the 
root  fortress  but  even  more  in  forcing  a  pathway 
through  the  canebrakes  when  he  should  again 
cross  the  river  and  try  to  reach  one  of  the  forts. 


66  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

The  salt  he  must  have  at  any  cost,  and  as  he  had 
no  bag  he  made  one  by  ripping  off  the  sleeve  of 
his  coat  and  tying  its  ends  with  strips  of  bark. 
He  had  just  filled  it,  and  tied  up  the  ends  when, 
hearing  a  noise,  he  turned,  and  saw  two  Indians 
within  six  feet  of  him. 


CONFUSED.  67 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CONFUSED. 

HE  two  Indians  who  had  startled  Sam, 
were  on  the  point  of  entering  the  old 
dwelling  house,  and  seemingly  were  un 
accompanied  by  any  others.  Sam  happened  for 
tunately  to  be  standing  in  shadow,  and  they  passed 
without  seeing  him.  But  what  was  he  now  to  do  ? 
He  was  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  a  high  picket 
fence  around  the  place  made  it  impossible  for  him 
to  escape  by  the  front-way,  towards  which  the  sav 
ages  had  gone.  Looking  through  the  door-way, 
he  saw  that  the  pair  had  passed  through  the  room 
nearest  him  and  into  the  adjoining  apartment.  He 
knew  that  other  Indians  were  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  that  a  dozen  of  them  might  wander  into  the 
enclosure  at  any  moment.  Resolving  upon  a  bold 
manoeuvre,  he  stepped  lightly  into  the  rear  room 
of  the  house,  and  climbed  up  inside  the  wide 


68  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

mouthed  chimney.  Whether  the  Indians  heard 
him  or  not  he  never  knew,  but  at  any  rate  he  was 
none  too  soon  in  hiding,  for  he  had  hardly  cleared 
the  fireplace  in  his  ascent  when  four  or  five  sav 
ages  came  into  the  room  and  began  to  demolish 
the  few  articles  of  furniture  left  in  the  house- 
They  had  got  whiskey  somewhere,  and  having  drank 
freely  were  even  noisier  than  white  men  get  under 
the  influence  of  strong  drink.  They  remained 
but  a  short  time,  when,  setting  fire  again  to  the 
half-burned  house,  they  left  the  place  yelling  as 
savages  only  can.  Sam  escaped  as  soon  as  he 
could  from  his  uncomfortable  quarters  and  made 
his  way- to  the  grove.  Mounting  his  horse  he  rode 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  root  fortress,  keeping 
in  the  woods  as  well  as  he  could  and  taking  every 
precaution  to  avoid  coming  suddenly  upon  savages. 
As  he  rode  only  at  night,  the  Indians'  almost 
universal  habit  of  building  camp-fires  wherever 
they  stop  for  the  night,  helped  him  to  avoid  them. 
When  morning  came  he  sought  a  place  deep  in 
the  forest,  when  he  turned  his  horse  loose  to  graze 
all  day,  while  he  slept  at  some  distance  from  the 
animal,  so  that  the  noise  of  the  beast's  stamping 


CONFUSED.  69 

and  browsing  might  not  lead  to   the  discovery  of 
his  own  whereabouts. 

As  the  evening  of  the  second  day  of  his  return 
came  round,  Sam  found  himself  genuinely  sick. 
His  foot  and  leg  were  much  inflamed,  and  the 
excitement  of  the  preceding  night,  together  with 
his  continued  exposure  to  the  drenching  dews  of 
the  Southern  autumn,  had  brought  back  his  fever 
with  increased  violence,  and  a  very  brief  experi 
ment  convinced  him  that  he  could  not  go  further 
that  night.  He  mounted  his  horse,  but  had  ridden 
less  than  a  mile  when  he  felt  a  giddiness  coming 
over  him  and  found  it  necessary  to  abandon  the 
effort  to  ride  that  night.  He  could  hardly  see, 
and  the  pain  in  his  head,  neck,  back  and  limbs  was 
excruciating.  He  dismounted  and  threw  himself 
down  on  the  ground  without  taking  the  trouble 
even  to  separate  himself  from  his  horse.  The 
truth  is,  Sam  had  what  they  call  in  South  Carolina 
country  fever,  a  'high  type  of  malarial  fever,  which 
stupefies  and  benumbs  its  victim  almost  as  soon  as 
it  attacks  him.  The  dews  in  the  far  South,  es 
pecially  in  the  fall,  are  so  heavy  that  the  water  will 
drip  and  even  stream  off -the  foliage  of  the  trees 


70  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

all  night,  and  Sam  hcid  been  drenched  every  night 
during  both  his  journeys,  having  no  fire  by  which 
to  warm  himself  or  dry  his  clothes.  Even  without 
this  drenching  the  poisonous  exhalations  of  the 
swamps  and  woods  would  doubtless  have  given 
him  the  fever,  and  as  it  was  he  had  it  very 
severely.  He  laid  down  again  almost  under  his 
horse's  feet  and  fell  into  a  sort  of  stupor.  He 
knew  that  his  fever  required  treatment,  and  that  it 
would  rapidly  sap  his  strength,  and  the  thought 
came  to  him :  What  if  he  should  die  there  and 
never  get  back  to  the  tree  fortress  ?  He  was  too 
sick  to  care  for  himself,  but  the  thought  of  little 
Judie  haunted  his  dreams,  and  he  was  seized  with 
a  semi-delirious  impulse  to  remount  his  horse  and 
ride  straight  away  to  the  hiding-place  in  which  he 
had  left  her,  regardless  of  Indians,  and  of  every 
thing  else.  He  dreamed  a  dozen  times  that  he 
was  doing  this,  and  finally,  when  morning  came,  he 
forgot  all  about  the  danger  of  travelling  by  day 
light,  and  mounting  his  horse  in  a  confused,  half- 
delirious  way,  rode  straight  out  of  the  woods 
towards  the  open  country,  which  he  had  hitherto 
so  carefully  avoided. 


WEATHERFORD. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

WEATHERFORD. 


[HE  fiercest  and  most  conspicuous  leader 
of  the  Indians  in  this  war  was  William 
Weather-ford,  or  the  Red  Eagle,  as  the 
Indians  called  him.  He  is  commonly  spoken  of 
in  history  as  a  half-breed,  but  he  was  in  reality 
almost  a  white  man,  with  just  enough  of  the 
Indian  in  his  composition  to  add  savage  emotions 
to  Scotch  intellect  and  Scotch  perseverance. 
His  father  was  a  Scotchman,  and  his  mother  a 
half-breed  Indian  Princess.  He  was  brought  up 
in  the  best  civilization  the  border  had,  his  father 
being  wealthy.  He  became  very  rich  himself, 
and,  despite  his  savage  instincts,  which  were  always 
strong,  his  wealth,  in  land  and  slaves,  made  him  a 
conservative.  At  first  he  favored  a  war  with  the 
whites,  but  a  calmer  afterthought  led  him  to 


72  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

desire  peace,  and  when  he  found  that  the  tempest 
he  had  helped  to  stir  up  would  not  subside  at  his 
bidding,  he  began  casting  about-for  a  way  of  es 
cape.  He  was  a  man  of  unquestionable  genius ;  a 
soldier  of  rare  strategic  ability ;  an  orator  of  the 
truest  sort,  and  his  courage  in  danger  was  simply 
sublime.  Such  a  man  was  likely  to  be  of  great 
value  to  the  Indians  in  their  approaching  war,  and 
when  they  began  to  suspect  his  loyalty  to  the 
nation,  they  watched  him  narrowly.  Finding  it 
impossible  to  postpone  the  war,  and  not  wishing 
to  sacrifice  his  fine  property  near  the  Holy  Ground, 
he  made  a  secret  journey  to  the  residence  of  his 
half  brother  David  Tait  and  his  brother  John 
Weatherford,  who  lived  among  what  were  known 
as  the  "  peacefuls,"  namely,  the  Indians  disposed  to 
remain  at  peace  with  the  whites  in  any  event.  His 
brothers,  hearing  his  story,  advised  him  to  bring 
his  negroes,  horses  and  movable  property  generally, 
together  with  his  family,  to  their  plantations,  and 
to  remain  there,  inactive  and  neutral,  during  the 
struggle.  When  he  returned  to  his  residence  for 
the  purpose  of  doing  this,  however,  he  found  that 
the  hostile  Indians  had  seized  his  family  and  his 


WE  A  THERFORD.  73 

negroes  as  hostages,  and,  under  the  compulsion  of 
their  threat  that  they  would  kill  his  wife  and 
children  if  he  should  dare  to  remain  at  peace,  he 
joined  in  the  war  against  the  whites,  becoming  the 
fiercest  of  all  the  chieftains.  He  planned  and  led 
the  assault  upon  Fort  Minis,  and  was  everywhere 
foremost  in  all  the  fighting.  When  the  Creeks  were 
utterly  routed  at  the  battle  of  the  Holy  Ground 
a  month  or  so  after  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing, 
General  Jackson  issued  a  proclamation  refusing 
terms  of  peace  to  the  chiefs  until  Weatherford, 
whom  he  had  determined  to  put  to  death,  should 
be  brought  to  him,  alive  or  dead.  Weatherford 
hearing  of  this,  although  he  was  safe  beyond  the 
borders  and  might  have  easily  made  his  escape  to 
Florida,  as  his  comrade  Peter  McQueen  did,  rode 
straightway  to  Jackson's  head-quarters,  where  he 
said  to  the  commander  who  had  set  a  price  upon 
his  head : — 

"  I  am  Weatherford.  I  have  come  to  ask 
peace  for  my  people.  I  am  in  your  power.  Do 
with  me  as  you  please.  I  am  a  soldier.  I  have 
done  the  white  people  all  the  harm  I  could.  I 
have  fought  them  and  fought  them  bravely.  If  I 


74  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

yet  had  an  army  I  would  fight  and  contend  to  the 
last.  But  I  have  none.  My  people  are  all  gone. 
I  can  now  do  no  more  than  weep  over  the  misfor 
tunes  of  my  nation." 

Jackson  was  so  impressed  with  the  sublime 
courage  and  the  dignity  of  the  man  upon  whose 
head  he  had  set  a  price,  that  he  treated  him  at 
once  with  chivalrous  consideration.  He  told  him 
that  the  only  terms  upon  which  the  Indians  could 
secure  peace  were  unconditional  submission  and 
uniform  good  conduct ;  but  "  as  for  yourself,"  he 
said,  "  if  you  do  not  like  the  terms,  no  advantage 
shall  be  taken  of  your  present  surrender.  You 
are  at  liberty  to  depart  and  resume  hostilities 
when  you  please.  But  if  you  are  taken  then,  your 
life  shall  pay  the  forfeit  of.  your  crimes." 

Weatherford  calmly  folded  his  arms  and  re 
plied  ;  "  I  desire  peace  for  no  selfish  reasons,  but 
that  my  nation  may  be  relieved  from  its  sufferings; 
for  independent  of  the  other  consequences  of  the 
war,  my  people's  cattle  are  destroyed  and  their 
women  and  children  destitute  of  provisions.  I 
may  well  be  addressed  in  such  language  now. 
There  was  a  time  when  I  had  a  choice  and  could 


WE  A  THERFORD.  75 

have  answered  you.  I  have  none  now.  Even 
hope  has  ended.  Once  I  could  animate  my  war 
riors  to  battle.  But  I  cannot  animate  the  dead. 
My  warriors  can  no  longer  hear  my  voice. 
Their  bones  are  at  Talladega,  Tallashatche, 
Emuckfaw  and  Tohopeka.  I  have  not  surren 
dered  myself  thoughtlessly.  While  there  were 
chances  of  success  I  never  left  my  post  nor  sup 
plicated  peace.  But  my  people  are  gone,  and  I 
now  ask  peace  for  my  nation  and  myself.  On  the 
miseries  and  misfortunes  brought  upon  my  country, 
I  look  back  with  the  deepest  sorrow,  and  wish  to 
avert  still  greater  calamities.  If  I  had  been  left 
to  contend  with  the  Georgia  army,  I  would  have 
raised  my  corn  on  one  bank  of  the  river  and 
fought  them  on  the  other.  But  your  people  have 
destroyed  my  nation.  General  Jackson,  you  are 
a  brave  man, — I  am  another.  I  do  not  fear  to 
die.  But  I  rely  upon  your  generosity.  You  will 
exact  no  terms  of  a  conquered  and  helpless  people 
but  those  to  which  they  should  accede.  What 
ever  they  may  be  it  would  now  be  folly  and  mad 
ness  to  oppose  them.  If  they  are  opposed,  you 
shall  find,  me  among  the  sternest  enforcers  of 


76  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

obedience.  Those  who  would  still  hold  out  can 
only  be  influenced  by  a  mean  spirit  of  revenge. 
To  this  they  must  not  and  shall  not  sacrifice^,  the 
last  remnant  of  their  country.'  You  have  told  us 
what  we  may  do  and  be  safe.  Yours  isC5?good 
talk,  and  my  nation  ought  to  listen  to  it.  They 
shall  listen  to  it."  * 

Jackson  was  too  generous  and  too  brave  a  man 
to  remain  unmoved  under  such  a  speech  from  a 
man  who  thus  placed  his  own  life  in  jeopardy  for 
the  sake  of  his  people.  He  bade  the  chieftain 
return  home,  and  promised  peace  to  his  people,  a 
promise  faithfully  kept  to  this  day.  All  this  how 
ever  occurred  nearly  two  months  after  the  time  of 
which  I  write,  and  it  is  introduced  here  merely  by 
way  of  explaining  the  things  which  happened  to 
Sam  on  the  morning  of  the  rash  resumption  of  his 
journey. 

This  man  Weatherford,  the  fiercest  enemy  the 


*  For  these  speeches  of  Weatherford's  and  for  other  historical 
details  I  am  indebted  to  a  valuable  and  interesting  book,  "  Romantjc 
Passages  in  South  Western  History,"  by  A.  B.  Mull,  Mobile,  S.  H. 
Goetzsl  &  Co.  publishers,  which  is  now,  unfortunately  out  of  print. 
The  speeches  are  well  authenticated  I  believe. 


WE  A  THERFORD.  77 

whites  had,  with  a  party  of .  about  twenty-five 
Indians,  bivouacked,  the  night  before,  in  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  and  when  Sam  mounted  his 
horse  that  morning  the  Indians  were  lying  asleep 
immediately  in  his  path  as  he  rode  blindly  out  of 
the  thicket.  The  first  intimation  he  had  of  their 
presence  was  a  grunt  from  a  big  savage  who  lay 
almost  under  his  horse's  feet.  Coming, to  himself 
in  an  instant,  Sam  took  in  the  whole  situation  at 
a  glance,  and  with  the  rapidity  and  precision  which 
people  who  are  accustomed  to  the  dangers  and 
difficulties  of  frontier  life  always  acquire,  he  men 
tally  weighed  all  the  facts  bearing  upon  the  ques 
tion  of  what  to  do,  and  decided.  He  saw  before 
him  the  savages,  rising  from  the  ground  at  sight 
of  him.  He  saw  their  horses  browsing  at  some 
little  distance  from  them,  He  saw  a  rifle,  on 
which  hung  a  powder-horn  and  a  bullet-pouch, 
standing  against  a  bush.  He  saw  that  he  had 
already  aroused  the  foe,  and  that  he  must  stand  a 
chase.  His  first  impulse  was  to  turn  around  and 
ride  back,  in  the  direction  whence  he  had  come  ; 
but  in  that  direction  lay  the  thicket  through 
which  he  could  not  ride  rapidly,  and  so  if  he  should 


78  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

take  that  course,  he  would  lose  the  advantage  which 
he  hoped  to  gain  from  the  fleetness  of  his  particu 
larly  good  horse.  Besides,  in  the  thicket  he  must 
of  course  leave  a  trail  easily  followed.  Just  beyond 
the  group  of  Indians  he  saw  the  open  fields,  and 
he  made  up  his  mind  at  once  that  he  would  push 
his  horse  into  a  run,  dash  right  through  the  camp 
of  the  savages,  pick  up  the  convenient  rifle  if  pos 
sible,  and  reaching  the  open  country  make  all  the 
speed  he  could.  In  this  he  knew  he  would  have 
an  advantage.,  inasmuch  as  he  would  get  a  good 
many  hundred  yards  away  before  the  savages  could 
catch  and  mount  their  horses  for  the  purpose  of 
pursuing  him,  and  he  even  hoped  that  they,  seeing 
how  far  he  was  in  advance  of  them,  would  abandon 
the  idea  of  pursuit  altogether.  All  this  thinking, 
and  weighing  of  chances,  and  deciding  was  the 
'work  of  a  single  half  second,  and  the  plan,  once 
formed,  was  executed  instantly.  Without  pausing 
or  turning  he  pushed  his  horse  at  a  full  run  through 
the  group  of  savages,  receiving  a  glancing  blow 
from  a  war  club  and  dodging  several  others  as  he 
went.  He  succeeded  in  getting  possession  of  the 
rifle  which  stood  by  the  bush,  and  reached  the 


WE  A  THERFORD.  79 

field  before  a  gun  could  be  aimed  at  him.  It  was 
now  his  purpose  to  get  so  far  ahead  as  to  discour 
age  pursuit,  and  with  this  object  in  view  he  con 
tinued  to  urge  his  horse  forward  at  his  best  speed. 
This  hope  was  a  vain  one,  as  he  soon  discovered. 
The  Indians,  infuriated  by  his  boldness,  mounted 
their  horses  and  gave  chase  immediately.  Sam 
had  an  excellent  habit,  as  we  know,  of  keeping  his 
wits  about  him,  and  of  preparing  carefully  for  dif 
ficulties  likely  to  come.  The  first  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  escape,  if  possible,  and  so  he  continued  to 
press  his  high-spirited  colt  forward,  while  he  de 
bated  the  probabilities  of  being  overtaken,  and  dis 
cussed  with  himself  the  resources  at  his  command 
if  the  savages  should  come  up  with  him.  He  was 
armed  now,  at  any  rate,  and  if  running  should 
prove  of  no  avail,  he  could  and  would  sell  his  life 
very  dearly.  Indeed  the  possession  of  the  rifle 
roused  all  the  spirit  of  battle  there  was  in  him,  and 
great  as  the  odds  were  against  him,  he  was  sorely 
tempted  to  pause  long  enough  to  shoot  once  at 
least.  He  remembered  Tom  and  Judie  and  Joe, 
however,  and  their  dependence  upon  him  for  guid 
ance  and  protection,  and  for  their  sake  more  than 


80  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

for  his  own,  suppressed  the  impulse  and  continued 
his  flight.  The  Indians  were  nearly  half  a  mile 
behind  him,  and,  as  nearly  as  he  could  tell,  were 
not  gaining  upon  him  very  rapidly.  His  colt 
seemed  equal  to  a  long  continued  race,  and  as  yet 
showed  no  sign  of  faltering  or  fatigue.  The  ques 
tion  had  now  resolved  itself,  Sam  thought,  into  one 
of  endurance.  How  long  the  Indians  would  con 
tinue  a  pursuit  in  which  he  had  the  advantage  of 
half  a  mile  the  start,  he  had  no  way  of  determin 
ing,  but  that  his  horse's  endurance  was  as  great 
at  least  as  their  perseverance,  he  had  every  reason 
to  hope. 

Just  as  he  had  comforted  himself  with  this 
thought,  a  new  danger  assailed  him.  One  of  the 
Indians,  it  seemed,  taking  advantage  of  a  minute 
knowledge  of  the  country,  had  saved  a  considerable 
distance  by  riding  through  a  strip  of  woods  and 
cutting  off  an  angle.  When  Sam  first  caught 
sight  of  him,  coming  out  of  the  woods,  the  savage 
was  within  a  dozen  yards  of  him,  and  evidently 
gaining  upon  him  at  every  step.  Sam's  horse  was 
a  fleet  one,  but  that  of  the  Indian  was  apparently 
a  thoroughbred,  whose  speed  remained  nearly  as 


WEATHERFORD.  8 1 

great  after  a  mile's  run  as  at  the  start.  Knowing 
the  Indians'  skill  in  shooting  while  riding  at  full 
speed,  Sam  leaned  as  far  as  he  could  to  one  side, 
so  that  as  little  as  possible  of  his  person  should  be 
exposed  to  his  pursuer's  aim.  He  continued  to 
press  his  horse  too,  but  the  savage  gained  steadily. 
Finding  at  last  that  he  must  shortly  be  overtaken, 
Sam  resolved  upon  a  bold  manoeuvre,  by  which  to 
kill  his  foremost  pursuer.  Seizing  the  hatchet  he 
had  brought  away  from  the  house,  he  suddenly 
stopped  his  horse,  and,  as  the  Indian  came  along 
side,  aimed  a  savage  blow  at  his  head. 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Sam  ?  "  said  the  Indian 
in  good  English,  dodging  the  blow.  "  I'm  Weath- 
erford.  If  I'd  wanted  to  kill  you  I  might  have 
done  so  a  dozen  times  in  the  last  five  minutes. 
You  know  I  don't  want  to  killjj/0^,  though  you're 
the  only  white  man  on  earth  I'd  let  go.  But  the 
others  will  make  an  end  of  you  if  they  catch  you. 
Ride  on  and  I'll  chase  you.  Turn  to  the  left  there 
and  ride  to  the  bluff.  Til  follow  you.  There's  a 
gully  through  the  top.  Ride  down  it  as  far  as 
you  can  and  jump  your  horse  over  the  cliff.  It's 
nearly  fifty  feet  high,  and  may  kill  you,  but  it's 


82  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

the  only  way.  The  other  warriors  are  coming  up 
and  they'll  kill  you  sure  if  you  don't  jump.  Jump, 
and  I'll  tell  'em  I  chased  you  over." 

Sam  knew  Weatherford  well,  and  he  knew 
why  the  blood-thirsty  chief  wished  to  spare  him  if 
he  could,  for  Sam  had  rescued  Weatherford  once 
from  an  imminent  peril  at  great  risk  to  himself, 
though  the  story  is  too  long  to  be  told  here. 
Whether  or  not  there  is  nobleness  enough  in 
the  Indian  character  to  make  the  savage  remem 
ber  a  benefit  received,  I  am  sure  I  cannot  say,  but 
Weatherford  was  three-fourths  white,  and  with  all 
his  ferocity  in  war,  history  credits  him  with  more 
than  one  generous  impulse  like  that  by  which  Sam 
was  now  profiting.  The  two  rode  on,  Weather- 
ford  pretending  to  be  in  hot  pursuit,  shooting  oc 
casionally  and  yelling  at  every  leap  of  his  horse.  The 
bluff  towards  which  they  rode  was  probably  a  hun 
dred  feet  high,  and  was  washed  at  its  base  by  a  deep 
but  sluggish  creek,  on  the  other  side  of  which  lay 
a  densely  wooded  swamp.  Through  the  top  of 
the  bluff,  however,  was  a  sort  of  fissure  or  ravine 
washed  by  the  flow  of  water  during  the  rainy 
season,  and  where  it  terminated  the  height  of  its 


WEATHERFORD.  83 

mouth  above  the  stream  was  not  more  than  forty 
or  fifty  feet.  Down  this  gully  Sam  rode  furiously, 
so  that  his  horse  might  not  be  able  to  refuse  the 
leap,  which  was  a  frightful  one.  Coming  to  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  with  headlong  speed,  the 
animal  could  not  draw  back  but  plunged  over 
with  Sam  sitting  bolt  upright  on  his  back.  Riding 
back  to  the  top  of  the  bank  Weatherford  met  his 
warriors. 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  asked  the  foremost. 

"  His  body  is  down  there  in  the  creek.  I  drove 
him  over  the  precipice,"  said  the  chief  with  well- 
feigned  delight.  * 

His  purpose  evidently,  was  to  satisfy  the  war 
riors  that  Sam  was  certainly  killed,  so  that  they 
might  pursue  him  no  further.  Whether  he  was 


*This  incident  of  the  leap  over  the  precipice  is  strictly  historical, 
else  I  should  never  have  ventured  to  print  it  here.  Weatherford 
himself,  on  the  23d  of  December,  1813,  after  the  battle  of  Tohopeka, 
escaped  a  body  of  dragoons  in  a  precisely  similar  manner.  A  still 
more  remarkable  leap  was  that  of  Major  Samuel  McCullock,  on  the 
ad  of  September  1777,  over  a  precipice  fully  300  feet  high  near 
Wheeling,  West  Virginia.  He  jumped  over  on  horseback,  thinking 
such  a  death  preferable  to  savage  torture,  but  singularly  enough, 
both  he  and  his  horse  escaped  unhurt. 


84  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

yet  alive  or  not,  Weatherford  himself  had  no 
means  of  knowing.  The  last  he  had  seen  of  him 
was  as  he  went  over  the  precipice,  sitting  bolt 
upright  on  his  horse,  grasping  his  rifle  and  looking 
straight  ahead.  He  heard  a  splash  in  the  water 
below,  after  which  everything  was  still. 


WEARY  WAITING, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WEARY    WAITING. 

[HE  days  seemed  very  long  to  Tom  and 
Joe  and  little  Judie  after  Sam  left  on  his 
journey.  They  had  nothing  to  do  but 
to  sit  still  in  their  corners  among  the  roots  all  day, 
and  time  always  drags  very  slowly  when  people 
are  doing  nothing.  Their  provisions,  as  we  know, 
were  already  cooked, — enough  of  them  at  least,  to 
last  a  week,  and  before  Sam  left  he  had  made 
them  bring  more  than  a  bushel  of  sweet  potatoes 
and  all  the  corn  they  could  find  which  was  still 
soft  enough  to  eat,  and  store  it  away  for  use  if  his 
return  should  be  delayed  in  any  way.  The  result 
was  that  their  legs  got  no  stretching,  and  they 
became  moody,  dispirited  and  unhappy  before  the 
second  day  of  Sam's  absence  had  come  to  an  end. 
They  found  doing  nothing  the  hardest  and  the 


86  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

dullest  work  they  ever  had  done  in  their  lives. 
Joe  managed  to  sleep  most  of  the  time,  but  Tom 
was  nervous,  and  poor  little  Judie,  without  Sam  to 
depend  upon,  grew  low-spirited  and  began  to  fear 
all  sorts  of  evil  things.  Finally  Sam's  week  was 
up  and  Sam  had  not  appeared.  The  little  people 
were  now  fairly  frightened.  What  had  become  of 
him  ?  they  wondered.  Had  he  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  Indians  ?  And  if  so,  what  were  they 
to  do  now  ?  They  had  never  before  known  how 
dependent  they  were  upon  him.  Even  during  his 
absence  they  had  been  regulating  their  lives  by 
his  minute  instructions,  and  depending  upon  him 
for  guidance  after  he  should  return.  But  what  if 
he  should  never  return  ?  And  why  hadn't  he 
come  already?  These  thoughts  were  too  much 
for  them.  Judie  sat  in  her  corner  brooding  over 
her  trouble,  and  crying  a  little  now  and  then.  Joe 
was  simply  frightened,  and  his  eyes  grew  bigger 
and  rounder  than  ever.  Tom  was  sustained  in 
part  by  the  thought  that  the  burden  of  responsi 
bility  was  now  on  him,  and  so  he  suppressed  all 
manifestations  of  uneasiness,  as  well  as  he  could, 
and  gave  himself  up  to  the  duty  of  studying  the 


WEARY  WAITING.  87 

situation,  calculating  his  resources  and  trying  to 
decide  what  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  if  Sam 
should  not  come  back  at  all.  He  hit  upon  several 
excellent  ideas,  but  made  up  his  mind  that  before 
trying  to  put  any  of  them  into  practice  he  would 
wait  at  least  a  fortnight  longer  for  Sam's  return. 
Their  stock  of  provisions,  eaten  raw,  would  last 
much  longer  than  that,  and  the  fields  were  full  of 
sweet  potatoes,  wherefore  he  wisely  thought  it 
best  not  to  lose  any  chance  of  having  Sam  to  do 
the  thinking  and  planning.  He  was  so  anxious 
for  his  brother's  return  that  he  spent  the  greater 
part  of  his  time  on  the  drift-pile  where  he  had 
built  himself  a  little  observatory,  so  arranged  that 
he  could  see  in  every  direction  without  the  pos 
sibility  of  being  seen  in  his  turn. 

Sitting  there  in  his  look-out,  watching  for  Sam, 
he  had  time  to  think  of  many  things.  His  think 
ing  was  not  always  wise,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  for  a  boy  of  his  age  it  did  very  well,  certainly, 
and  one  day  he  hit  upon  a  really  valuable  idea. 

The  way  it  came  about  was  this.  He  fell  into 
a  reverie,  and  remembered  the  happy  old  days  at 
home,  and  one  day  in  particular,  when  he  was 


88  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

busy  all  day  making  a  little  wagon  in  which  to1 
give  Judie  a  ride,  and  he  remembered  how  very 
short  that  day  seemed,  although  it  was  in  June. 
Just  then  it  popped  into  his  head  to  think  that 
there  was  a  reason  for  everything,  and  that  that 
day  had  seemed  so  short  only  because  he  had 
been  very  busy  as  its  hours  went  by.  If  he  had 
known  what  "generalization  "  means,  he  would 
have  generalized  this  truth  as  follows : — 

"  Time  passes  rapidly  with  busy  people."  He 
did  nothing  of  the  kind,  however.  He  only 
thought. 

"  If  poor  little  Judie  had  something  to  keep 
her  busy  all  the  time,  she  wouldn't  be  so  mis 
erable." 

And  so  he  cudgelled  his  brains  to  invent  some 
plan  or  other  by  which  to  set  Judie  at  work  and 
keep  her  at  it  all  the  time. 

When  he  returned  to  the  fortress  towards 
night,  he  said  to  the  little  woman ;  "  Judie,  I 
reckon  poor  Sam's  foot  is  troubling  him  again, 
and  that's  the  reason  he  hasn't  got  back  yet.  He'll 
work  along  slowly  and  get  here  after  a  while,  but 
I'm  afraid  he'll  be  dreadfully  tired  and  sick  when 


WEARY  WAITING.  89 

he  comes.  We  must  have  a  good  soft  bed  ready 
for  him  so  that  he  can  get  a  good  rest." 

To  tru's  Judie  assented,  though  in  her  heart 
she  feared  she  should  never  see  Sam  again,  as 
indeed  Tom  did  too,  though  neither  would  admit 
the  fact  to  the  other. 

"  Now  I've  been  thinking,"  said  Tom,  "  that  it 
wont  do,  if  he  comes  back  half  sick,  to  let  him  lie 
on  green  moss  with  all  the  outside  on.  Let  me 
show  you." 

And  taking  a  strand  of  the  long  moss  he 
scraped  the  greenish  -gray  outside  off,  leaving  a 
black  strand  like  a  horse  hair. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  Sam  told  me  once  that  it's 
the  soft  outside  part  that  holds  water,  while  the 
inside  is  dry  almost  always.  Now  why  can't  we 
scrape  the  outside  off  of  a  great  deal  of  moss  and 
have  the  dry  inside  ready  for  Sam  to  sleep  on 
when  he  comes  back  ?  It  '11  surprise  him  and 
he  '11  be  glad  too.  He  never  cared  for  himself 
much,  but  he  '11  be  glad  to  see  that  we  care  for  him." 

The  plan  pleased  little  Judie  wonderfully  well. 
She  was  always  delighted  to  do  anything  fo¥  Sam, 
and  now  that  she  was  uneasy  about  him,  and  kept 


90  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

thinking  of  him  as  dead  or  dying  or  sick  some 
where,  and  could  hardly  keep  her  tears  back,  noth 
ing  could  have  pleased  her  so  well  as  to  work  for 
his  comfort.  Tom  and  Joe  went  out  after  dark, 
and  brought  in  a  large  lot  of  moss,  and  the  next 
morning  all  went  to  work,  Judie  made  very  little 
progress  with  her  scraping,  but  she  kept  steadily 
at  it,  and  it  served  ,its  purpose  in  making  her  less 
miserable  than  before.  The  days  passed  more 
rapidly  to  Tom  and  Joe,  too,  and  the  whole  party 
grew  more  cheerful  under  the  influence  of  work. 
It  was  now  ten  days,  however,  since  Sam  had 
gone  away,  and  his  non-appearance  was  really 
alarming.  When  work  stopped  for  the  night,  the 
thought  of  Sam  was  uppermost  in  the  minds  of 
all  three,  and  for  the  first  time  they  talked  freely 
of  the  matter. 

Tom  was  disposed  to  cheer  himself  by  cheer 
ing  the  others,  and  so  he  explained : 

"It's  about  forty-five  miles  to  where  Fort  Mims 
stood,  so  Sam  told  me,  and  he  said  he  might  go 
nearly  that  far,  if  he  didn't  see  Indians.  If  he 
went  only  thirty-five  miles  it  would  take  him  four 
or  five  nights ;  say  five  nights,  and  five  more  to 


WEARY  WAITING.  91 

> 

come  back  would  make  ten.  But  may  be  his  foot 
got  sore,  or  Indians  got  in  the  way,  and  so  it  has 
taken  him  longer  than  he  thought.  I  don't  think 
we  ought  to  be  uneasy  even  if  he  should  stay  two 
weeks  in  all." 

That  was  all  very  well  as  a  theory,  and  true 
enough  too,  but  Tom  was  uneasy,  nevertheless, 
and  so  were  Joe  and  Judie.  The  worst  of  it  was 
that  none  of  them  could  hide  the  fact.  The 
eleventh  day  came,  and  with  it  came  an  excitement. 
Tom  was  the  first  to  wake,  and  without  waiting 
for  the  others,  he  proceeded  to  make  his  breakfast 
off  an  ear  of  raw  corn,  which  was  almost  hard 
enough  to  grind,  and  altogether  too  hard  to  be 
eaten  as  green  corn  at  any  well-regulated  table. 
Tom  ate  it,  however,  having  nothing  better,  and 
when  Judie  waked  he  offered  her  a  softer  ear, 
which  he  had  carefully  selected  and  laid  aside. 
Judie  tried  but  couldn't  eat  it.  She  was  faint  and 
almost  sick,  and  found  it  impossible  to  swallow  the 
raw  corn. 

"  Poor  little  sister,"  said  Tom.  "  If  I  had  any 
fire  I'd  roast  a  potato  for  you  to-day  anyhow,  but 
the  fire's  all  out  and  I  can't." 


92  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

\ 

"Mas'  Tom!"  said  Joe,  "I'll  tell  you  what! 
I  dun  see  a  heap  o'  fox  grapes  down  dar  by  de 
creek,  an'  I'se  gwine  to  git  some  for  Miss  Judie 
•  quicker'n  you  kin  count  ten."  And  so  saying  Joe 
ran  first  to  the  look-out,  to  make  a  preliminary 
reconnoisance.  The  boys  rarely  ever  left  the  trees 
during  the  daytime,  and  when  they  did  so  they 
were  careful  first  to  satisfy  themselves  that  there 
were  no  savages  in  the  neighborhood.  The  creek, 
of  which  Joe  spoke,  emptied  into  the  river  a  short 
distance  above  the  root  fortress,  and,  along  its 
banks  was  a  dense  mass  of  undergrowth,  which 
skirted  the  river  below,  all  the  way  to  the  drift- 
pile.  Joe  had  seen  the  grapes  from  the  look-out, 
and  had  planned  an  excursion  after  them.  He 
could  follow  the  river  bank  to  the  creek,  keeping 
in  the  bushes  and  moving  cautiously,  and  if  any 
Indians  should  appear  he  could  retreat  in  the 
same  way,  without  discovery.  Tired  of  raw  corn 
and  sweet  potatoes,  the  grapes  had  tempted  him 
sorely,  and  it  only  needed  Judie's  longing  for  a 
change  of  diet  to  induce  him,  to  make  this  forag 
ing  expedition. 


FIGHTING  FIRE. 


93 


CHAPTER  X. 

FIGHTING  FIRE. 

EFORE  proceeding  to  relate  the  inci 
dents  which  follows,  it  is  necessary  to 
explain  a  little  more  fully  the  arrange 
ment  of  the  root  fortress  and  the  drift-pile.  The 
two  trees,  which  were  enormous  ones,  had  originally 
grown  as  close  together  as  they  could,  and  their 
roots  had  interlaced  beneath  the  soil.  The  sand 
in  which  they  grew  having  been  gradually  washed 
away,  their  great  masses  of  roots  were  exposed  for 
about  fifteen  feet  below  the  original  level  of  the 
soil  and  as  they  spread  out  they  made  two  circles 
(one  running  a  foot  or  two  into  the  other),  of  about 
twelve  or  fifteen  feet  in  diameter.  Inside  of  this 
circle  of  great  roots,  the  roots  were  mostly  small, 
and  the  boys  had  cut  them  away  with  their  knives, 
leaving  just  enough  of  them  to  stop  up  all  the 


9}.  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

holes  and  obscure  the  view  from  without.  The 
drift-pile,  or  hammock,  as  it  is  sometimes  called  at 
the  South,  had  been  years  in  forming,  being  drift 
wood  which  had  floated  down  the  river  during 
winter  and  spring  freshets,  and  as  it  had  lodged 
against  the  trees  it  lay  only  on  their  upper  side, 
where  it  was  piled  up  into  a  perpendicular  wall 
nearly  twenty  feet  high.  Thence  it  stretched 
away  up  the  river  for  a  hundred  yards  or  more' 
Now  the  only  entrance  big  enough  to  admit  a 
person  into  the  root  fortress  was  on  the  side  next 
to  the  drift,  and  it  opened  only  into  an  alley-way 
which  the  boys  had  partly  found  and  partly  made 
through  the  drift.  This  alley-way  led  past  several 
little  aisles  running  out  to  the  right  and  left  for  a 
dozen  yards  or  so, — aisles  formed  by  the  irregular 
piling  of  the  logs  on  top  of  each  other.  In  the 
fortress  there  were  a  dozen  places  at  least,  where 
the  big  roots  were  sufficiently  wide  apart  to  admit  a 
grown  man  easily,  "but  the  boys  had  left  the 
smaller  roots  which  covered  these  gaps  undisturbed, 
and  cut  only  the  one  entrance.  After  cutting  that 
on  the  side  next  the  hammock,  they  had  moved 
some  of  the  drift  so  as  to  close  up  the  sides  of  the 


FIGHTING  FIRE.  95 

entrance  and  make  it  open  only  into  the  alley-way. 
All  this  had  been  done  under  Sam's  supervision, 
and  as  a  result  of  his  prudence  and  fore  thought. 

Joe  had  been  gone  nearly  half  an  hour  when 
he  burst  suddenly  into  the  chamber  in  which  the 
others  were.  His  hands  were  full  of  the  wild  grapes, 
but  of  those  he  was  evidently  not  thinking.  His  face 
was  of  that  peculiar  hue  which  black  faces  assume 
when  if  they  were  white  faces  they  would  grow 
pale ;  and  his  lips,  usually  red,  were  of  an  ashy 
brown.  His  eyes  were  of  the  shape  of  saucers, 
and  seemed  not  much  smaller.  He  gasped  for 
breath  in  an  alarming  way,  and  Tom  saw  that  the 
poor  fellow  was  frightened  almost  out  of  his  wits. 

"  What's  the  matter  Joe  ?  Tell  me  quick,"  said 
the  younger  boy. 

"  O  Mas'  Tom,  we'se  dun  surrounded.  I  was 
jest  a-gittin'  de  grapes  when  I  seed  a'most  a  thou 
sand  Injuns  a-comin,'  an'  I  dun  run  my  life  a'most 
out  a-gittin'  here.  Dey  did  not  see  me,  but  I  seed 
dem,  an'  I  tell  you  dey's  de  biggest  Injuns  you  ever 
did  see.  I  'clar  dey's.  mos'  as  tall  as  trees." 

"  How  many  of  'em  are  there,  Joe  ? "  asked  Tom 
standing  up. 


96  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  I  couldn't  count  'em  e'zactly,  Mas'  Tom,  but  I 
reckon  dey's  not  less'n  a  thousand  of  'em, — maybe 
two  thousan'  for  all  I  know." 

"  Where  are  they,  and  what  were  they  doing  ?  " 
asked  Tom  ;  but  before  Joe  could  answer,  the  voices 
of  the  Indians  themselves  indicated  their  where 
abouts,  and  Tom  discerned  that  they  were  disagree 
ably  close  to  his  elbow. 

Seeking  a  place  in  which  to  cook  their  break 
fast  the  savages  had  selected  the  corner  formed  by 
the  root  fortress  and  the  drift-pile  as  a  proper  place 
for  a  fire,  and  were  now  breaking  up  sticks  with 
which  to  start  one.  They  were  just  outside  the  * 
fortress,  and  either  of  the  boys  could  have  touched 
them  by  pushing  his  arm  out  between  the  roots. 
Tom  motioned  the  others  to  keep  absolutely 
silent,  and  going  a  little  way  into  the  hammock, 
through  the  passage  way  he  managed  to  find  a  place 
from  which  he  could  see  the  intruders.  He  soon 
discovered  that  Joe's  account  of  them  was  slightly 
exaggerated  in  two  important  particulars.  They 
were  only  ordinary  Indians,  neither  larger  nor  small 
er  than  grown  Indians  usually  are,  and  instead  of 
a  thousand  there  were  but  three  of  them  in  all. 


4  FIGHTING  FIRE.  ^7 

But  three  fully  grown  Indians  were  enough 
to  justify  a  good  deal  of  apprehension,  and  if 
they  should  discover  the  party  in  the  tree,  Tom 
knew  very  well  they  would  make  very  short  work 
of  their  destruction.  He  crept  back  to  the  tree 
therefore  and  again  cautioned  Joe  and  Judie,  in  a 
whisper,  not  to  speak  or  make  any  other  noise. 
Then  he  returned  to  his  place  of  observation  and 
watched  the  Indians.  They  soon  made  a  crackling 
fire  and  proceeded  to  broil  some  game  they  had 
killed,  this  and  the  eating  which  followed  occupied 
perhaps  an  hour,  during  which  Tom  made  fre 
quent  journeys  to  the  little  room,  nominally  for  the 
purpose  of  cautioning  the  others  to  keep  still,  but 
really  to  work  off  some  portion  of  his  uneasiness, 
which  was  growing  with  every  moment.  He  was 
terrified  at  first  upon  general  principles,  as  any 
other  boy  of  eleven  years  old  would  have  been. 
Then  he  was  afraid  that  the  Indians  would  by 
some  accident,  lean  something  against  the  curtain 
of  small  roots  between  two  other  big  trees,  and 
that  the  curtain  might  not  be  strong  enough  to 
support  it,  in  which  event  their  hiding-place 

would  be  discovered  at  once.     He  was  afraid,  too, 
5  7 


98  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

that  some  slight  noise  inside  the  fortress  might 
catch  the  uncommonly  quick  ears  of  the  Indians. 
All  these  were  dangers  well  worth  consider 
ing;  but  now  a  new,  and  much  greater  danger 
began  to  show  itself.  The  drift  was  largely  Com 
posed  of  light  wood,  and  from  his  hiding-place 
Tom  could  see  that  the  fire  built  by  the- trees  had 
communicated  itself  to  the  hammock,  and  that  the 
flames  were  rapidly  spreading.  The  danger  now 
was  that  the  fire  would  burn  into  the  alley-way 
and  so  cut  off  retreat  from  the  fortress,  and  if  so 
those  inside  would  be  burned  alive.  Quitting  his 
place  of  observation  therefore,  he  established  him 
self  as  a  sentry  in  the  alley-way,  having  determined, 
if  the  fire  should  approach  the  passage,  to  take 
Joe  and  Judie  out  of  the  fortress  and  into  one  of 
the  aisles  near  the  farther  edge  of  the  drift-pile. 
Having  begun  to  plan  he  saw  all  the  possibilities 
of  the  case  and  tried  to  provide  for  all.  He  knew 
that  if  the  wind  should  drive  the  flames  into  the 
drift  the  whole  pile  would  be  destroyed  in  a  very 
brief  time,  but  in  that  case,  he  reasoned,  the  black 
smoke  of  the  resinous  pine  would  make  it  impos 
sible  for  the  Indians  to  see  very  far  in  that  direc- 


FIGHTING  FIRE.  gg 

tion,  and  so  he  resolved,  if  the  worst  came,  to  lead 
his  companions  out  of  the  upper  end  of  the  ham 
mock,  into  the  bushes  and  so  escape  to  the  creek, 
where  he  hoped  to  find  a  hiding-place  of  some  sort. 
He  had  got  this  far  in  his  planning  when  he  heard 
Judie  cough,  and  stepping  quickly  into  the  room 
found  it  full  of  smoke.  Seeing  that  to  stay  there 
was  to  suffocate,  he  beckoned  his  companions  to 
follow,  and  stepping  lightly  they  passed  down  the 
alley-way  and  sat  down  in  one  of  the  aisles,  behind 
a  great  sycamore  log  which  ran  across  the  pile. 
Peeping  over  this  log  Tom  saw  the  three  Indians 
shoulder  their  guns  and  walk  away.  He  ran  at 
once  to  the  look-out,  and  though  the  smoke  almost 
blinded  him  he  observed  all  their  movements. 

• 

He  wanted  them  away  speedily,  so  that  he  and 
Joe  might  extinguish  the  fire  if  that  were  still  pos 
sible,  and  as  every  minute  served  to  increase  the 
difficulty  and  lessen  the  chances  of  doing  so,  the 
loitering  of  the  savages  seemed  interminable. 
They  stopped  first  to  drink  at  the  spring.  Then 
they  amused  themselves  by  throwing  sticks,  and 
pebbles  and  shells  at  a  turtle  which  was  sunning 
himself  on  a  log  in  the  stream.  Then  they  stop- 


100  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ped  to  examine  the  track  of  a  turkey  or  of  some 
animal,  in  the  sand,  and  it  really  seemed  to  Tom 
that  they  did  not  mean  to  go  away  at  all. 

All  things  have  an  end,  however,  and  even  the 
stay  of  disagreeable  visitors  cannot  last  always. 
The  three  savages  finally  disappeared  a  mile  down 
the  river,  and  Tom,  after  scanning  the  surrounding 
country  and  satisfying  himself  that  there  were 
no  others  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  hurried 
to  the  place  where  Joe  and  Judie  were  hidden. 

"  They've  gone  at  least,"  he  said,  "  and  now 
Joe,  we  must  put  this  fire  out,  if  we  can.  Judie, 
you  stay  here,  and  if  you  find  the  smoke  bothers 
you,  go  further  down  the  alley  that  way.  Don't 
Jry  to  stay  if  the  smoke  comes." 

How  to  stop  the  fire  was  the  problem.  Fortu 
nately  there  was  very  little  wind,  and  what  there 
was  blew  chiefly  from  up  the  river.  The  flames 
had  spread  over  a  considerable  space,  however, 
and  the  boys  had  hardly  anything  with  which  to 
work. 

They  carried  'water  in  their  hats  from  the 
river,  which  was  only  a  few  yards  away,  now  that 
it  had  risen  to  the  bottom  of  the  second  bank. 


FIGHTING  FIRE.  IOi 

This  was  altogether  too  slow  a  way  of  working, 
however,  and  the  fire  was  visibly  gaining  on  the 
boys.     But,  slow  as  this  process  was,  it  served  to 
teach  Tom  a  lesson  or  rather  to  remind  him  of 
one  he  had  learned  and  forgotten.     He  found  that 
a  hatful  of  water  thrown  on  the  bottom  of  the  fire 
did  more  good  than  two  hatfuls  thrown  on   top, 
and  he  remembered  that  when  the  soot  in  the 
chimney   at   home   caught   fire   once,   his   father 
would  not  allow  anybody  to  pour  water  down  the 
chimney,  but  stood  himself  by  the  fireplace  throw 
ing  a  little  water,  not  up  the  chimney  but,  on  the 
blazing  fire  below.     This  water,  turned  into  steam, 
went  up  the  chimney  and  soon  extinguished  the 
fire  there.     In  the  same  way  Tom  now  discovered 
that  when  he  threw  a  hatful  of  water  on  a  burning 
log  at  the  bottom  of  the  pile  it  had  a  perceptible 
effect  all  the  way  to  the  top.     Thinking  of  the 
chimney  fire  he  remembered  also  that  his  father 
had  said  at  the  time  that  a  plank  laid  over  the  top 
of  a  burning  chimney,  or  a  screen  fastened  over 
the  fireplace  would  stop  the  burning  of  the  soot 
by  stopping  the  air,  and  so  smothering  the  fire. 
This  suggested  a  new  plan  of  operations  for  pres- 


102  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ent  use.  The  long  gray  moss  grew  in  great  abun 
dance  all  around  the  place,  and  gathering  this  he 
dipped  it  in  the  river  and  then  threw  it  on  top  of 
the  fire.  A  bunch  of  the  moss  held  greatly  more 
water  than  his  hat,  and  it  served  also  to  smother 
the  fire.  He  and  Joe  repeated  the  operation, 
putting  some  of  the  moss  on  top  and  some  against 
the  sides  of  ^the  burning  pile  of  timber.  The 
steam  from  these  perceptibly  checked  the  burning, 
and  an  hour's  work  covered  the  fire  almost  en 
tirely  up,  so  far  at  least  as  the  exposed  side  of  the 
drift-pile  was  concerned.  But  just  as  they  were 
disposed  to  congratulate  themselves  upon  their 
success  in  subduing  the  flames,  they  discovered 
that  while  they  had  been  smothering  the  fire  on 
one  side  it  had  been  burning  freely  further  in. 
The  openness  of  the  hammock  gave  free  access  to 
the  air  from  the  other  side,  and  just  beyond  the 
line  of  moss  they  saw  a  blaze  licking  its  tongue 
out  from  below.  They  were  tired  out,  already, 
and  this  added  discouragement  to  weariness. 
Little  Judie,  although  the  boys  had  urged  her  to 
remain  quiet,  had  been  hard  at  work  bringing 
moss  to  them,  insisting  upon  her  right  to  work  as 


FIGHTING  FIRE.  IO3 

well  as  they.  She  had  discovered  too  that  the 
sand,  just  below  the  surface  was  wet,  and  that  this 
served  almost  as  good  a  purpose  as  the  moss  itself 
when  thrown  on  the  fire.  The  poor  little  girl  was 
utterly  tired  out  at  last,  however,  and  when  the  fire 
seemed  to  be  subsiding,  she  had  yielded  to  Tom's 
entreaties,  and  going  into  the  drift-pile  had  laid 
down  to  rest.  Now  that  all  their  work  promised  to 
accomplish  nothing,  the  boys  were  vexed  with 
themselves  for  having  permitted  the  frail  little 
girl  to  wear  herself  out  in  so  fruitless  a  task.  This, 
with  their  disappointment,  served  to  make  them 
utterly  wretched. 


104  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  XL 

IN    THE     WILDERNESS. 

[HEN  Sam  went  over  the  cliff, he  thought 
of  poor  little  Judie,  and  Tom  and  Joe, 
and,  for  their  sake  more  than  his  own, 
took  every  precaution  which  might  give  him  an 
additional  chance  of  life.  He  knew  that  he  should 
fall  into  the  creek,  and  that  the  blow,  when  he 
struck  the  water,  would  be  a  very  severe  one.  If 
he  could  keep  his  horse  under  him  all  the  way, 
however,  the  animal  and  not  he  would  be  the  chief 
sufferer.  Fearing  that  the  horse  would  hesitate 
at  the  cliff,  blunder,  and  throw  him  a  somersault, 
perhaps  falling  on  him,  he  held  the  beast's  head 
high  and  urged  him  forward  at  full  speed,  and  so, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  horse's  back  was  almost  level 
as  he  leaped  from  the  top  cf  the  bank.  Sam  had 
no  saddle  or  stirrups  in  which  to  become  entangled, 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  IO5 

and  as  the  horse  struck  the  water  fairly,  the  blow 
was  not  nearly  so  severe  a  shock  to  the  boy  as  he 
had  expected.  Both  went  under  the  water,  but 
rising  again  in  a  moment  Sam  slid  off  the  animal's 
back,  to  give  the  poor  fellow  a  better  chance  of 
escape  by  swimming.  Striking  out  boldly  Sam 
reached  the  bank  and  crawling  up  looked  for  his 
horse.  The  poor  beast  was  evidently  too  severely 
hurt  to  swim  with  ease,  and  so  he  drifted  away, 
Sam  running  along  the  bank,  calling  and  encour 
aging  him.  He  struck  the  shore  at  last,  and  Sam 
examining  him  found  that  while  he  was  stunned 
and  bruised  no  serious  damage  had  been  done. 

"  Poor  fellow,"  he  said,  stroking  the  colt's  head, 
"  you  cannot  serve  me  any  further  in  this  swamp, 
but  you  saved  my  life  and  I'm  glad  you're  not 
killed  anyhow." 

Then  taking  the  bridle  off,  he  turned  the  horse 
loose,  to  graze  and  browse  at  will  in  the  dense 
growth  of  the  swamp. 

Sam  was  feverish  still,  and  very  weak,  but  his 
anxiety  to  reach  the  root  fortress  again  was  an 
overmastering  impulse.  .  He  had  lost  his  bearings 
in  the  mad  chase,  and  the  sky  was  so  overcast 


5* 


106  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

that  he  could  make  no  use  of  the  sun  as  a  guide. 
He  knew  that  his  course  lay  nearly  northward, 
and  it  was  his  purpose  to  travel  only  at  night,  as 
before ;  but  unless  he  could  get  out  of  the  swamp 
during  the  day,  and  ascertain  in  what  direction 
he  must  travel,  he  could  not  go  on  during  the 
night  at  all.  If  it  should  clear  off  by  evening, 
the  pole  star  would  show  him  his  way,  but  there 
was  no  promise  of  a  clearing  away.  He  must  find 
the  course  during  the  day,  and  he  set  about  it  at 
once,  after  examining  his  salt  bag  which  he  had 
put  around  his  body,  under  his  shirt,  on  the  night 
on  which  he  got  it.  The  salt  was  saturated, with 
water,  and  Sam's  first  impulse  was  to  wring  it  out ; 
but  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  water  he  should 
squeeze  out  of  it  would  be  salt  water,  or  in  other 
words,  that  some  of  the  salt  would  come  away 
with  the  water  and  be  lost.  If  he  let  it  dry  gradu 
ally,  however,  all  the  salt  would  remain,  and  he 
determined  to  let  it  dry,  carrying  it,  with  that  in 
view,  over  his  shoulder.  How  to  find  out  which 
way  was  north  was  the  question,  and  it  puzzled 
him  sorely.  He  knew  the  general  course  of  all 
the  creeks  in  that  part  of  the  country,  but  as  they 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS,  IO/ 

wind  about  in  every  'direction  it  was  impossible  to 
get  any  information  out  of  the  one  he  was  near. 
It  was  his  habit,  when  he  wanted  to  solve  any  difficult 
problem,  to  sit  down  and  think  of  it  in  all  its  bear 
ings,  and  a  very  excellent  habit  that  is  too.  Nearly 
half  our  blunders,  all  through  life,  might  be  avoid 
ed  if  we  would  think  carefully  before  acting;  and 
nearly  half  the  useful  things  we  know,  have  been 
found  out  simply  by  somebody's  thinking.  Sam 
sat  down  on  a  log  and  said  to  himself ; — 

"  Now  if  there  is  anything  in  the  woods  which 
always  or  nearly  always  points  in  any  one  direc 
tion,  I  can  find  it  by  looking.  Then  I  can  find 
out  which  way  it  points,  by  remembering  how  the 
woods  look  around  home,  where  I  know  the  points 
of  the  compass." 

This  was  an  excellent  beginning,  and  Sam 
straightway  began  looking  for  something  which 
should  guide  him.  A  patch  of  sunflowers  grew  by  the 
creek,  and  he  had  heard  that  they  always  turn  their 
heads  to  the  sun,  but  upon  examining  them,  he 
found  some  of  them  turned. one  way  and  some  an 
other,  so  that  they  were  of  no  use  whatever.  Pres 
ently  he  observed  some  beautiful  green  moss  grow- 


108  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ing  at  the  root  and  for  a  good  many  feet  up  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  and  looking  around  he  saw  that 
the  moss  at  the  roots  of  all  the  trees  grew  only  or 
chiefly  on  one  side,  and  that  the  covered  side  was 
the  same  with  all  of  them.     Here  was  a  uniform 
habit   of  vegetation,   and   Sam   knew   enough  to 
know  that  such  a  habit  was  not  likely  to  be  con 
fined  to  one  particular  locality.     He  began  think 
ing  of  the  woods  around  home,  and  especially  o£ 
a  clump  of  trees  in  the  yard  at  his  father's  house, 
the   moss-covered   roots   of    which    were   Judie's 
favorite  playing  place.    This  moss,  he  remembered, 
was  nearly  all  on  the  north  side  of  the  trees,  whose 
southern  roots  were  bare.     All  the  other  mossy 
trees  he  could  remember  taught  the  same  lesson, 
namely,  that  the  green  moss  which  grows  around  the 
bases  of  trees,  grows  chiefly  on  the  north  side.    He 
had  no  doubt  that  the  law  was  a  general,  if  not  a  uni 
versal  one,  and  as  the  mossy  trees  were  very  numer 
ous,  he  had  a  guide  easily  followed.     Striking  out 
northwardly,  therefore,  he  travelled  several  miles 
before  stopping,  coming  then  to  a  suitable  resting- 
place  he  lay  down  to  gather  strength  for  the  night's 
journey.     When  night  come,  however,  it  had  been 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  109 

raining  for  some  hours,  and  in  addition  to  the  dark 
ness  of  a  rainy  night  in  a  swamp,  Sam  found  the 
soft  alluvial  soil  so  saturated  with  water  that  he  sank 
almost  to  his  knees  at  every  step.  Finding  it  impos 
sible  to  go  on  he  stopped  again  on  the  highest  and 
dryest  piece  of  ground  he  could  find,  and  prepared 
to  spend  the  night  there.  Cutting  down  a  number 
of  thick-leaved  bushes  he  arranged  them  against 
a  fallen  tree,  as  a  shelter. 

He  had  been  lying  down  but  a  short  time 
when  he  discovered  that  pretty  nearly  all  the  rain 
that  fell  on  his  bush  roof  found  its  way  through  in 
great  drops  from  the  leaves.  It  then  occurred  to 
him  that  he  had  erred  in  placing  the  bushes  with 
their  tops  up.  This  indeed,  made  them  mere 
catchers  and  conductors  of  water  to  the  space 
they  covered.  Turning  them,  so  that  their  droop 
ing  leaves  pointed  downward,  he  was  not  long  in 
making  a  really  comfortable  shelter,  through  which 
very  little  water  could  find  its  way. 

Towards  morning  he  waked  and  found  himself 
lying  in  water.  He  could  see  nothing  in  the  dark 
ness;  but  supposed  that  the  rain  had  in  some  way 
made  a  pool  where  he  was  lying.  On  coming  out 


1 10  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

from  his  tent,  however,  he  found  matters  much 
worse  than  he  had  thought  In  whatever  direction 
he  looked  he  could  see  nothing  but  water,  and  he 
knew  what  the  trouble  was.  The  rain  had  been 
very  heavy  all  along  the  creek,  and  the  stream 
having  very  little  fall  had  spread  out  over  the  whole 
surface  of  the  swamp.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
except  wait  for  daylight,  and  he  climbed  upon  the 
trunk  of  the  fallen  tree  to  get  out  of  the  water 
while  he  waited.  The  rain  had  ceased  to  fall,  and 
he  had  therefore  no  reason  to  fear  any  great  in 
crease  in  the  depth  of  the  surrounding  water. 

When  morning  came,  Sam  found  that  he  was 
not  the  only  occupant  of  the  fallen  tree.  A  fine 
large  opossum  had  taken  refuge  in  one  of  the 
upper  branches,  and  Sam  used  his  rifle  to  good 
purpose  in  bringing  him  down.  He  was  still 
suffering  somewhat  from  the  fever,  though  the  ex 
citement  of  his  recent  ride  had  done  much  to  re 
lieve  him,  as  anything  which  occupies  one's  mind 
is  apt  to  do  in  fevers  of  that  sort,  but  he  was 
nevertheless  extremely  hungry,  not  having  tasted 
food  of  any  kind  for  nearly  two  days,  and  having 
previously  lived  for  a  long  time,  as  we  know,  upon 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  i  1 1 

an  insufficient  and  not  very  wholesome  diet.  He  - 
was  delighted  therefore  to  get  a  fat  young  opossum 
for  breakfast.  The  next  thing  was  to  cook  it.  Sam 
was  in  no  danger  here  from  Indians,  who  were  not 
likely  to  be  in  such  a  swamp  at  any  time,  and  were 
certainly  not  then,  when  the  swamp  was  full  of 
water.  He  had  no  objection  therefore  to  a  fire, 
but  where  and  how  to  build  one  he  was  at  some  loss 
to  determine.  Looking  carefully  around  he  dis 
covered  that  in  falling  the  great  sycamore  tree  on 
which  he  stood  had  thrown  up  a  large  mound  of 
earth  at  its  roots,  as  big  trees  in  blowing  down  nearly 
always  do.  This  mound  was  well  above  the  water, 
even  at  its  base,  and  here  Sam  determined  to  roast 
his  opossum.  He  first  dug  a  hole  in  the  ground, 
making  it  about  two  feet  long,  one  foot  wide 
and  eighteen  inches  deep.  This  was  to  be  his 
fireplace  and  oven.  He  next  collected  dry  bark 
from  the  under  side  of  the  fallen  tree,  and  by 
breaking  off  its  dead  and  well-seasoned  limbs 
secured  several  large  armfuls  of  wood.  Then 
taking  'from  his  leathern  bullet-pouch  a  piece  of 
greased  rag,  kept  there  to  wrap  bullets  in  before 
ramming  them  in  the  barrel,  he  placed  it  in  the 


112  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  pan  "  of  his  rifle.  Does  the  reader  know  what  the 
"  pan  "  of  a  rifle  is  ?  If  not  he  knows  nothing  of 
flintlock  guns,  and  I  must  explain.  Before  the  in 
vention  of  percussion  caps,  guns  were  provided 
with  a  little  groove-shaped  trough  by  the  side  of 
the  powder  chamber.  From  this  "  pan  "  as  it  was 
called,  a  little  hole  led  into  the  charge.  Over  the 
pan  fitted  a  piece  of  steel  on  a  hinge,  so  that  it  could 
be  opened  and  shut  at  pleasure.  This  piece  of 
steel,  after  covering  the  pan,  extended  diagonally 
upward,  and  its  surface  was  roughened  like  the 
face  of  a  file.  When  the  rifleman  had  loaded  his 
gun  he  opened  the  pan,  poured  in  a  little  powder 
and  closed  it  again.  In  the  hammer  was  a  piece 
of  flint,  and  when  the  trigger  was  pulled  the  flint 
came  down  with  great  force  into  the  pan,  scraping 
the  roughened  steel  as  it  came,  and  raising  the  pan 
cover  on  its  hinge.  It  thus  deposited  a  shower  of 
sparks  in  the  pan,  set  fire  to  the  powder  there  and 
through  it  to  the  charge  in  the  gun. 

Sam's  object  was  merely  to  get  fire,  however, 
— not  to  discharge  his  rifle, — wherefore,  without 
reloading  it,  after  shooting  the  opossum,  he  mere 
ly  filled  the  pan  with  powder,  placed  the  greasy 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  n^ 

rag  in  it,  and  cocking  the  gun  pulled  the  trigger. 
In  a  moment  the  rag  was  burning,  and  before 
many  minutes  had  passed,  Sam  had  a  good  fire 
burning  in  and  over  the  hole  he  had  dug.  He 
then  skinned  and  dressed  the  opossum,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  replenish  the  fire  and  to  throw 
all  the  live  coals  into  the  hole  as  they  formed. 
Within  an  hour  the  hole  was  full  of  burning 
coals,  and  hot  enough,  Sam  thought,  for  his  pur 
pose.  He  cut  a  number  of  green  twigs  and  collect 
ed  a  quantity  of  the  long  gray  moss.  He  then  re 
moved  all  the  fire  from  the  hole,  the  sides  and  bot 
tom  of  which  were  almost  red  hot,  and  passing  a 
twig  through  the  opossum,  lowered  it  to  the  mid 
dle  of  the  hole,  where  the  twig  rested  on 
ledges  provided  for  that  purpose.  This  brought 
the  dressed  animal  into  the  centre  of  the  hole, 
without  permitting  it  to  touch  either  the  sides  or 
the  bottom.  He  then  laid  twigs  across  the  top  of 
the  hole,  covered  them  with  moss,  and  threw  near 
ly  a  foot  of  loose  earth  over  the  moss.  The  sides 
and  bottom  of  the  hole,  as  I  have  said,  were  very 
hot,  and  Sam's  plan  was  to  keep  the  heat  in  un 
til  it  should  roast  the  meat  thoroughly.  That 

8 


114  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

his  plan  was  a  good  one,  I  know  from  experience, 
having  roasted  more  than  one  turkey  in  that  way. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  very  best  way  in  which  meat  of 
any  kind  can  possibly  be  roasted  at  all,  as  it  lets 
none  of  the  flavor  escape  in  the  form  of  gases. 

Sam  waited  patiently  for  an  hour,  when,  opening 
his  earth  oven,  he  found  his  opossum  cooked  to 
a  rich,  crisp  brown.  He  ate  a  heartier  and  more 
wholesome  breakfast  that  morning  than  he  had 
eaten  for  weeks,  and  felt  afterwards  altogether 
better  and  stronger  than  before.  The  breakfast 
would  have  been  an  excellent  one  at  any  time,  as 
the  flesh  of  the  opossum  tastes  almost  exactly  like 
that  of  a  suckling  pig,  but  it  was  doubly  good  to  the 
poor  half-famished  boy.  He  stowed  away  the 
remains  of  his  feast  in  his  coat  pockets  to  be  eaten 
on  his  way  back  to  the  root  fortress,  resolving  to 
kill  some  other  game  on  the  journey,  for  the  use 
of  the  little  garrison  there.  He  was  now,  as  he 
knew,  not  more  than  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  his 
destination,  but  it  was  as  yet  impossible  for  him  to 
travel.  The  swamp  was  full  of  cypresses,  and  it 
is  a  peculiar  habit  of  these  trees  to  turn  their 
roots  straight  upward  for  any  distance,  from  an 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  115 

inch  to  many  feet,  and  then  to  bring  them  straight 
down  again,  making  what  are  called  cypress  knees. 
These  knees  are  very  sharp  on  top,  and  sometimes 
stand  not  more  than  a  foot  apart.  Being  of  all 
heights,  many  of  them,  as  Sam  knew,  were  under 
water  now,  and  these  made  travelling  impossible, 
even  if  there  had  been  no  quagmires  to  fall  into, 
as  there  were.  After  studying  the  situation,  Sam 
determined  to  remain  where  he  was  until  the  water 
should  subside,  and  then  to  travel  by  daylight,  at 
least  until  he  should  be  out  of  the  swamp  and 
upon  high  ground  again.  The  waters  of  the 
creek  subsided  much  more  slowly  than  they  had 
risen,  and  Sam  remained  at  the  Sycamore  Camp, 
as  he  called  the  place,  for  four  days  and  nights 
before  he  thought  travelling  again  practicable. 

He  then  resumed  his  march,  beset  by  many 
difficulties.  The  ground  was  muddy  everywhere, 
and  impassably  so  in  some  places.  There  were 
many  ponds  and  pools  left  in  the  swamp,  and 
these  had  to  be  avoided,  so  that  night  had  already 
come  before  he  found  himself  fairly  out  of  the 
swamp  and  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  about  two 
miles  below  the  root  fortress.  He  now  began  to 


Il6  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

feel  all  sorts  of  apprehensions.  He  had  been 
away  eleven  days,  and  he  could  not  help  imagining 
a  variety  of  terrible  things  which  might  have  hap 
pened  to  his  little  band  during  his  absence.  Pres 
ently  he  saw  a  great  light  up  the  river,  and  at 
once  the  thought  flashed  into  his  mind  that  the 

O 

Indians  had  discovered  and  butchered  the  boys 
and  Judie,  and  were  now  burning  the  drift  pile. 

"  I'll  hurry  on,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and  if  the 
Indians  are  really  there,  it's  time  for  me  to  take 
part  in  this  war.  I  can  keep  in  the  timber  and 
pick  off  half  a  dozen  of  them  there  in  the  fire 
light.  Then  if  they  scalp  me,  I  don't  care.  I'll 
at  least  make  them  suffer  for  what  they've  done." 

A  fierce  storm  was  just  breaking,— a  storm  of 
the  violent  and  heroic  type  seen  only  in  tropical 
and  sub-tropical  countries,  but  Sam  thought  noth 
ing  of  that.  He  pushed  on  almost  unconsciously, 
with  no  thought  except  that  with  his  rifle,  hidden 
in  the  darkness,  he  could  wage  one  sharp  and 
terrible  battle  with  the  murderers  of  Judie  and  Tom 
and  Joe,  before  suffering  death  at  their  hands. 
The  lightning  struck  a  tree  just  ahead  of  him,  but 
he  seemed  not  to  observe  the  fact.  He  was  going 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  117 

into  battle,  and  what  was  a  thunderbolt  more  or 
less  at  such  a  time.  The  rain  followed,  drenching 
him  instantly,  but  not  dampening  his  determina 
tion  in  the  least. 


I  ]  8  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AN   ALARM   AND   A   WELCOME. 

HEN  Tom  and  Joe  made  the  dishearten 
ing  discovery  that  in  spite  of  all  their 
efforts  the  fire  was  burning  inside  the 
hammock,  they  felt  like  giving  up  in  despair,  and 
seeking  another  refuge. 

"  But  then  Sam  would  never  find  us,"  said 
Tom,  "  even  if  he  gets  back.  He  will  find  this 
place  burned  up  and  think  the  Indians  have  killed 
us  all.  We  must  put  this  fire  out,  Joe,  if  it  takes  a 
week." 

And  straightway  the  boys  began  again,  satura 
ting  large  armfuls  of  moss  with  water  and  laying 
them  on  top  of  the  drift  whenever  the  blaze  show 
ed  itself.  Heart-pine  burns  rapidly  with  a  great 
blaze  and  much  smoke,  but  it  makes  no  coals,  and 
a  gallon  of  water  will  sometimes  stop  the  burning 


AN  ALARM  AND  A   WELCOME.  119 

of  a  great  log  of  it,  instantly.  Every  armful  of 
wet  moss  therefore  had  an  immediate  and  percep 
tible  effect  which  greatly  encouraged  the  boys. 
They  worked  hour  after  hour,  not  succeeding  in 
putting  the  fire  out,  indeed,  but  managing  to 
check.it  very  decidedly,  and  better  than  all,  to 
keep  it  away  from  the  trees  and  from  the  alley 
way  leading  to  their  hiding-place.  Just  as  night 
fell,  Joe  called  out, 

"  I  say,  Mas'  Tommy,  it's  gwine  to  rain  buckets- 
ful." 

"  I  wish  it  would,"  said  Tom,  looking  up  to  the 
black  clouds  which  as  yet  he  had  hardly  observed 
at  all.  Just  then  a  sharp  flash  followed  by  a  sud 
den  peal  of  thunder  almost  stunned  the  boys. 

"  Dat  didn't  strike  fur  from  here,"  said  Joe. 

"  No,  it  must  have  hit  a  tree  down  the  river  a 
little  way,"  said  Tom. 

The  rain  followed  in  torrents,  and  little  Judie 
came  out  of  her  hiding-place  to  beg  the  boys  to 
come  in  lest  the  lightning  should  strike  them. 
They  were  encouraged  by  the  rain,  however,  to 
continue  fighting  the  fire,  and  resumed  operations 
at  once. 


120  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  Hush ! "  said  Tom  presently,  "  there's  Indians 
about.  I  heard  'em  walking  in  the  brush.  Run 
around  the  hammock  quick,  and  let's  hide." 

All  ran  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  se 
creting  themselves  in  the  drift  awaited  results. 

Presently  they  heard  footsteps  in  the  alley-way, 
and  the  voice  of  their  big  brother  called  out. 

"  Where  are  all  you,  little  people,  and  what  do 
do  you  hide  from  me  for  ?  " 

The  Indian  they  had  heard  was  Sam  creeping 
around  to  see  who  it  was  that  was  burning  the 
drift.  Seeing  the  boys  and  Judie,  he  walked  out 
of  the  thicket,  but  before  he  could  get  to  them  they 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  drift  from  the  supposed 
danger.  Their  joy  at  Sam's  return,  and  Sam's  joy 
at  finding  them  safe  and  well  instead  of  finding 
Indians  dancing  around  their  burning  dwelling, 
may  be  imagined.  Tom  put  his  arm  around  his 
brother's  neck,  and  could  say  nothing  but, 

"  Dear  old  Sam,"  which  he  said  over  again 
every  ten  seconds  during  half  an  hour  at  least. 
Judie  hugged  and  kissed  Sam,  and  cried  over  him 
and  called  him  her  "  dear,  best,  big  brother,"  and 
did  all  sorts  of  foolish  things  which  didn't  strike 


AN  ALARM  AND  A   WELCOME.  \2\ 

Sam  as  foolish  at  all.  Joe  would  sit  awhile  and  then 
get  up  and  dance  until  he  knocked  his  shins  against 
some  of  the  drift,  and  then  set  down  again,  and 
then  get  up  and  dance  again,  grinning  with  delight, 
I  have  no  doubt,  though  it  was  too  dark  for  any 
body  to  see  whether  he  grinned  or  not. 

After  a  little  while  Sam  went  out  and  returning 
reported  that  the  rain  had  completely  extinguished 
the  fire.  They  then  retired  to  the  root  fortress  which 
was  unhurt,  and  Sam  said  he  thought  they  ought  to 
hold  prayers  before  going  to  sleep.  Sam  prayed 
rather  awkwardly  perhaps,  but  he  prayed  because 
he  felt  like  thanking  the  Father  who  had  watched 
over  them  all  in  so  many  dangers,  and  the  awkward 
ness  of  such  a  prayer  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence. 
They  all  laid  down,  after  prayers,  and  one  after 
another  fell  asleep.  ; 

The  next  morning  a  fire  was  started  after  the 
plan  Sam  had  adopted  in  the  swamp,  and  some 
game  which  he  had  killed  made  a  savory  break 
fast  for  all  of  them.  Judie  thought  salt,  which  she 
now  tasted  for  the  first  time  in  many  weeks,  was 
altogether  better  than  sugar, — an  opinion  which  it 
seems  she  never  before  held.  After  breakfast  ex- 


122  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

planations  were  in  order.  Sam  told  the  others 
all  about  his  adventures,  and  they  gave  him  a 
minute  history  of  their  life  during  his  absence. 
Then  Sam  explained  that  from  the  number  of 
savages  he  had  seen  on  that  side  of  the  river,  he 
thought  the  other  side  must  now  be  comparatively 
free  from  them. 

"Fort  Glass  is  just  twelve  miles  away  from 
here,"  he  said,  "  and  I  mean  now  to  go  there,  just 
as  soon  as  I  get  a  little  rested  and  feel  strong 
enough.  The  country  along,  this  part  of  the  river 
is  very  bad  to  travel  through,  though,  since  the 
river  rose,  as  all  the  creeks  are  up,  and  if  we  could 
get  up  the  river  about  eight  miles,  we  should  be 
within  six  miles  of  the  fort,  with  a  good  country  to 
travel  through.  We  can't  get  there,  however,  and 
so  it's  no  use  to  talk  about  it.  We  must  just  strike 
out  from  here  and  make  our  way  across  the  best 
way  we  can." 

But  clearly  Sam  was  in  no  condition  to  travel 
yet.  His  fever  had  come  back  on  him  that  morn 
ing,  and  it  was  necessary  to  postpone  the  journey 
to  Fort  Glass  until  he  should  get  better.  He  went 
into  the  woods  during  the  day,  and  shot  two  squir- 


AN  ALARM  AND  A   WELCOME.  123 

rels  and  a  wild  turkey,  but  upon  his  return  found 
himself  unable  to  sit  up  longer.  The  bed  of  scraped 
moss  was  very  welcome  to  the  weary  and  sick  boy. 
The  next  day  he  was  a  little  better,  but  the  next 
found  him  very  ill  and  partly  delirious.  The  boys 
were  frightened.  They  had  seen  enough  of  the 
fevers  of  that  region  to  know  that  they  require  im 
mediate  and  constant  treatment,  and  they  had  good 
reason  to  fear  that  Sam  could  never  recover  with 
out  medicine  and  a  doctor.  They  ministered  to 
him  as  well  as  they  could,  but  they  could  do  noth 
ing  to  check  the  fever,  which  was  now  constant 
and  very  high.  Sam  knew  hardly  anything,  and 
rarely  ever  spoke  at  all  except  to  talk  incoherently 
in  fits  of  delirium. 


124  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

• 

JOE'S  PLAN. 

]AM'S  illness  continued  day  after  day,  and 
the  boys  were  greatly  troubled.  Little 
Judie  remained  by  her  "big  brother's" 
side  almost  constantly,  while  Tom  and  Joe  provid 
ed  food,  cooked  it,  and  attended  to  the  wants  of 
the  little  community  to  the  very  best  of  their 
ability.  They  were  in  the  habit  too,  of  retiring 
now  and  then,  to  a  secluded  spot  in  the  drift-pile, 
to  consult  and  discuss  plans  of  procedure.  One 
day  Tom  went  to  the  rendezvous  and  found  Joe 
there  leaning  against  a  log,  with  his  feet  on  an 
other,  and  his  eyes  closed. 

"  Are  you  asleep,  Joe  ? "  he  asked. 

"  No,  Mas'  Tom,  I'se  not  asleep,"  said  Joe,  "  Fse 
just  thinkin1." 

"  Well,  what  were  you. thinking,  Joe  ?  " 


JOE'S  PLAN.  125 

"  I'se  been  layin' "plans,  Mas'  Tom,  an'  Fs  laid 
one  good  un  anyhow." 

"  What  is  it,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  Mas'  Sam  ought  to  have  a 
doctor,  an'  he's  gwine  to  die  if  he  don't,  dat's 
/sartain.  But  dey  ain't  no  doctor  here." 

Joe  said  this  as  if  it  were  a  new  truth  just 
discovered,  that  there  was  no  doctor  there. 

"  Well,  go  on,  Joe,"  said  Tom,  "  and  tell  me  your 
plan,  maybe  it's  a  good  one." 

"  Course  it's  a  good  un.    I  dun  tell  you  dat  fust." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  Mas'  Tom,  don't  you  know  Mas'  Sam  always 
begins  'way  back  whar'  he's  been  thinkin'  an'  tells  all 
dat  fust  so  you  kin  see  all  de  why's  and  wharfores  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  your  plan, 
Joe?" 

"  Nothin',  only  dat's  de  way  I'se  gwine  to  'splain 
my  plan,  I'se  dun  begun  way  back  whar  I'se  dun 
been  thinkin',  an'  I'se  gwine  to  tell  all  'bout  dat 
fust.  Den  you'll  understan'  de  whys  and  wharfores. 
You  mus' n't  hurry  me,  Mas'  Tom,  dat's  all." 

"All  right,  tell  it  your  own  way,  Joe,"  said 
Tom,  laughing. 


126  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  No,  I'se  gwine  to  tell  it  Mas'  Sam's  way. 
Well,  you  see  dey  ain't  no  doctor  here  an'  we 
can't  git  one  to  come  here  neither.  So  we  must 
take  Mas'  Sam  to  whar'  dey  is  doctors,  do  you 
see?" 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  said  Tom,  "  but  how  are 
we  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  Now  you'se  hurryin'  me  again,  Mas'  Tom. 
Dat's  just  what  I'se  a-comin'  to.  Mas'  Sam  said 
de  other  mornin'  dat  if  we  was  up  de  river  about 
eight  miles  furder,  de  fort  would  be  only  six 
miles  away,  an'  de  country  would  be  easy  'nuff  to 
cross.  He  dun  say  we  couldn't  git  up  de  river, 
but  we  kin.  You  see  Mas'  Sam  was  sick,  an'  dat's 
de  reason  he  say  dat.  Now  I  dun  bin  thinkin'  of 
a  way  to  git  up  de  river.  Dey's  lots  of  cane  here, 
an'  you  an'  me  kin  twis'  canes  one  over  de  other 
like  de  splits  in  a  cha'r  bottom,  an'  dat  way,  when 
we  gits  a  dozen  big  squars  of  it  made,  as  big  both 
ways  as  the  canes  is  long,  we  kin  lay  'em  on  top  o' 
one  an'  other,  an'  fasten  'em  togedder  wid  bamboos, 
an'  it'll  be  a  fust-rate  raft.  Den  you  an'  me  kin 
pole  it  up  stream,  keepin'  close  to  de  shore,  wid 
Mas'  Sam  an'  little  Miss  Judie  on  it.  When  we 


JOE'S  PLAN.  127 

git  up  dar,  I  kin  go  over  to  de  fort,  leavin'  you  wid 
Mas'  Sam  till  de  folks  comes  after  you  all." 

This  was  Joe's  plan  of  operations,  and  upon 
thinking  it  over  Tom  was  disposed  to  think  it  the 
best  plan  possible  under  the  circumstances.  Ac 
cordingly  he  and  Joe  went  to  work  at  once.  They 
could  not  make  the  raft  inside  the  drift-pile,  for 
want  of  room,  but  they  found  a  place  in  the  bushes 
near  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  where  they  could 
work  unobserved.  They  cut  down  a  large  num 
ber  of  the  flexible  green  canes,  and  wove  them  to 
gether  into  a  square  net  work.  Repeating  this 
operation  several  times  they  finally  had  enough  of 
the  squares  to  make,  they  thought,  a  secure  raft, 
when  laid  one  on  top  of  the  other.  It  would  not 
do  to  join  them  in  the  bushes  however,  as  that 
•  would  make  their  weight  so  great  that  the  boys 
could  not  lift  them  to  the  water.  They  determined, 
therefore,  to  get  their  pushing  poles  first,  and  then 
to  carry  the  squares  one  by  one  to  the  river,  and, 
arranging  them  there,  to  embark  soon  after  night 
fall.  The  work  of  construction  had  occupied 
many  days,  and  it  was  now  the  i2th  of  November. 
The  boys  hoped  to  complete  their  undertaking 


128         .  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

the  next  day  and  embark  the  next  night.  After 
their  return  to  the  drift-pile,  however,  it  occurred 
to  Tom  to  inquire  whether  or  not  Joe  knew  the 
way  from  the  river  to  the  fort,  after  they  should 
reach  the  end  of  their  voyage. 

"  I  'clar',  Mas'  Tom,  I  never  thought  o'  dat  at 
all!"  said  Joe  in  consternation.  "  I  dunno  a  foot 
of  de  way,  an'  I  dunno  whar'  de  fort  is  either." 

Tom  being  equally  ignorant,  their  long  con 
sultation  held  on  the  spot,  ended  in  an  enforced 
abandonment  of  the  enterprise  which  had  occupied 
their  heads  and  hands  for  so  long  a  time. 

"  Now  dar'  it  is,  Mas'  Tom,"  said  Joe.  "  Dat's 
always  the  way.  Mas'  Sam  never  makes  no  blunder, 
'cause  he  thinks  it  all  out  careful  fust.  Poor  Joe's 
head  gets  things  all  mixed  up.  I  aint  no  count 
anyhow,  an'  I  jest  wish  I  was  dead  or  somethin '." 

Poor  Joe !  The  disappointment  was  a  sore  one 
to  him.  He  had  been  thinking  all  along  of  the 
glory  he  should  reap  as  the  saviour  of  the  little 
party,  and  now  his  whole  plan  was  found  to  be 
worthless.  He  slept  little  that  night,  and  once 
Tom  heard  him  quietly  sobbing  in  his  corner. 
Creeping  over  to  him  Tom  said  : 


JOE^S  PLAN.  I2Q 

"  Don't  cry,  Joe.  You  did  your  best  anyhow, 
and  it  isn't  your  fault  that  you  don't  know  the  way 
to  the  fort,"  and  passing  his  arm  around  the  poor 
black  boy's  neck  he  gently  drew  his  head  to  his 
shoulder,  where  it  rested  while  the  two  slept. 

The  next  morning  Judie  was  the  first  to  wake, 
and  she  quietly  waked  Tom  and  Joe. 

"  Boys,  boys,"  she  cried  in  a  whisper,  "  the 
Indians  are  all  around  us,  there  is  a  fight  going' 
on.  Get  up  quick,  but  don't  make  any  noise." 

The  little  girl  was  right.  Rifles  were  cracking 
and  Indians  yelling  all  around  their  little  habita 
tion.  It  at  once  occurred  to  Tom  that  here  was 
hope  as  well  as  danger.  If  the  Indians  should  be 
driven  back  by  the  whites,  he  could  communicate 
with  the  latter  and  the  little  garrison  of  the  root 
fortress  would  be  rescued.  At  present,  however, 
it  was  the  savages  and  not  the  whites  who  surround 
ed  the  trees  and  the  drift  pile.  Tom  determined 
lose  no  chance,  however,  and  cautioning  the 
others  to  keep  still,  he  went  to  the  lookout  to 
watch  for  an  opportunity  to  communicate  with 
the  white  men  whom  these  Indians  were  evidently 
fighting. 

6*  q 


130  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CANOE  FIGHT. 

EFORE  going  further  with  the  story  of 
what  happened  around  the  root  fortress 
on  that  morning,  it  is  necessary  to  explain 
how  it  came  about  that  a  battle  was  fought  there. 
I  gather  the  facts  from  authentic  history. 

During  all  the  time  spent  by  the  Hardwickes  in 
their  wanderings  and  in  the  root  fortress,  the  war 
had  been  going  on  vigorously.  The  occupants  of 
Fort  Sinquefield,  when  they  abandoned  that  fort  as 
described  in  the  early  chapters  of  this  story,  suc 
ceeded  in  making  their  way  to  Fort  Glass,  or  Fort 
Madison,  as  it  was  properly  named,  though  the 
people  still  used  its  original  name  Fort  Glass  in 
speaking  of  it,  for  which  reason  I  have  so  called 
the  place  throughout  this  story.  In  July  General 
Floyd,  who  was  in  command  of  all  the  United 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  !3I 

States  forces  in  the  south-west,  sent  General 
Claiborne,  with  his  twelve  months'  Mississippi 
volunteers  to  Fort  Stoddart,  with  instructions  to 
render  such  aid  as  he  could  to  the  forts  in  the  sur 
rounding  country.  His  force  consisted  of  seven 
hundred  men,  and  of  them  he  took  five  hundred 
to  Fort  Stoddart,  sending  the  remaining  two  hun 
dred,  under  Col.  Joseph  E.  Carson,  a  volunteer 
officer,  to  Fort  Glass.  The  two  hundred  soldiers 
added  greatly  to  the  strength  of  the  place,  and 
with  the  settlers  who  had  taken  refuge  inside, 
rendered  it  reasonably  secure  against  attack.  The 
refugees  were  under  command  of  Captain  Evan 
Austill,  himself  a  planter  of  the  neighborhood. 

Shortly  after  the  storming  of  Fort  Sinque- 
field,  and  almost  immediately  after  the  garrison  of 
that  place  had  reached  Fort  Glass,  the  Indians  ap 
peared  in  great  numbers  in  that  neighborhood, 
burning  houses,  killing  everybody  who  strayed 
even  a  few  hundred  yards  outside  the  picket  gates, 
and  seriously  threatening  the  fort  itself.  In  view 
of  these  facts  Col.  Carson  sent  a  young  man  of 
nineteen  years  of  age  named  Jerry  Austill,  the  son 
of  Capt.  Evan  Austill  to  General  Claiborne's  head- 


132  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

quarters,  with  dispatches  describing  the  situation 
and  asking  for  reinforcements.  Young  Austill 
made  the  journey  alone  and  at  night,  at  terrible 
risk,  as  he  had  to  pass  through  a  country  infested 
with  savages,  but  on  his  return  brought,  instead  of 
assistance,  an  order  for  Col.  Carson  to  evacuate  the 
fort  and  retire  to  Fort  Stephens.  When  he  did 
so,  however,  Captain  Austill  and  about  fifty  other 
planters,  with  their  families,  determined  to  remain 
and  defend  Fort  Glass  at  all  hazards.  Among 
those  who  remained  was  Mr.  Hardwicke,  who,  now 
that  the  Indians  had  murdered  his  children,  as  he 
supposed,  had  little  to  live  for,  and  was  disposed 
to  serve  the  common  cause  at  the  most  dangerous 
posts,  where  every  available  man  was  needed. 

After  a  time  Col.  Carson  was  sent  back  to  the 
fort  with  his  Mississippi  volunteers,  and  this  freed 
the  daring  spirits  inside  the  fort  from  the  necessity 
of  remaining  there.  They  went  at  once  on  scout 
ing  parties,  Tandy  Walker,  the  guide,  being  al 
most  always  one  of  the  number  going  out  on  these 
perilous  expeditions.  They  scoured  the  country 
far  and  near,  in  bodies  ranging  from  two  or  three 
to  twenty  or  thirty  men,  and  fought  the  Indians  in 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  ^3 

many  places,  losing  some  valuable  men  but  mak 
ing  the  Indians  suffer  in  their  turn. 

Finally  it  was  determined  to  send  out  a  party 
larger  than  any  that  had  yet  gone,  to  operate 
against  the  savages  on  the  south-east  side  of  the 
river.  This  expedition  numbered  seventy-two  men, 
thirty  of  whom  were  Mississippi  Yauger  men,  un 
der  a  Captain  Jones,  while  the  others  were  volun 
teers  from  private  life.  The  expedition  was  under 
the  command  of  Sam  Dale,  already  celebrated  as 
an  Indian  fighter,  and  known  among  the  Creeks, 
with  whom  he  had  lived,  as  Sam  Thlueco,  or  Big 
Sam,  on  account  of  his  enormous  size  and  strength. 
During  this  Creek  war  he  had  performed  some 
feats  of  strength,  skill  and  daring,  the  memory  of 
which  is  still  preserved  in  history,  together  with 
that  of  the  celebrated  canoe  fight,  which  we  are 
now  coming  to.  To  tell  of  these  deeds  of  prowess 
would  lead  *us  away  from  our  proper  business, 
namely,  the  telling  of  the  present  story ;  but  the 
canoe  fight  comes  properly  into  the  story,  being  in 
fact  one  of  its  incidents.  Three  only  of  Dale's 
companions  figured  with  him  in  the  canoe  fight, 
and  they  alone  need  mentioning  by  name.  These 


134  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

were,  first  Jerry  Austill,  the  young  man  already 
spoken  of,  who  was  six  feet  two  inches  high,  slen 
der  but  strong,  and  active  as  a  cat ;  second,  James 
Smith,  a  man  of  firm  frame  and  dauntless  spirit  ; 
and  third  Caesar,  a  negro  man,  who  conducted  him 
self  with  a  courage  and  coolness  fairly  entitling 
him  to  bear  the  name  of  the  great  Roman  warrior. 
The  expedition  left  Fort  Glass  on  the  1 1  th  of 
November,  1823.  Tandy  Walker  was  its  guide,  and 
every  man  in  the  party  knew  that  Tandy  was  not 
likely  to  be  long  in  leading  them  to  a  place  where 
Indians  were  plentiful.  He  knew  every  inch  of 
country  round  about,  and  nothing  pleased  him  so 
well  as  a  battle  in  any  shape.  The  day  after  they 
left  Fort  Glass,  Dale's  men  reached  the  river  at  a 
point  eighteen  miles  below  the  present  town  of 
Clairborne,  and  about  fifteen  miles  below  the  root 
fortress.  Here  they  crossed,  in  two  canoes,  to  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  river,  and  sperit  the  night 
without  sleep.  The  next  morning  Austill,  with 
six  men,  ascended  the  river  in  the  canoes,  while 
Dale,  with  the  rest  of  the  party,  marched  up  the 
bank.  About  a  mile  below  the  root  fortress,  Dale 
who  was  marching  some  distance  ahead  of  his 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  '135 

men,  came  upon  some  Indians  at  breakfast,  and 
without  waiting  for  his  men  to  come  up,  shot  their 
chief.  The  rest  fled  precipitately,  leaving  their 
provisions  behind.  Pushing  on,  Dale  reached  a 
point  about  two  hundred  yards  below  the  root  for 
tress,  and  there  determined  to  recross  the  river. 
The  canoes  transported  the  men  as  rapidly  as  pos 
sible,  but  when  all  were  over  except  Dale  and 
eight  or  nine  men  (among  whom  were  Smith,  Aus- 
till  and  Caesar),  and  only  one  canoe  remained  at 
the  eastern  side  of  the  stream,  a  large  party  of  In 
dians,  numbering,  as  was  afterwards  ascertained, 
nearly  three  hundred,  attacked  the  handful  of  whites 
still  remaining.  These  retreated  from  the  field, 
where  they  were  breakfasting,  and  keeping  the  In 
dians  in  check  by  careful  and  well-aimed  firing, 
were  about  to  get  into  the  canoe  and  escape  to  the 
opposite  bank,  about  four  hundred  yards  away, 
when  they  discovered  that  their  retreat  was  cut  off 
by  a  large  canoe  full  of  Indians,  eleven  in  all, 
which  had  come  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  creek 
just  above.  The  savages  tried  to  approach  the 
shore,  but,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  by  careening 
the  canoe  to  one  side  and  lying  down  they  wen 


136  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

able  to  conceal  themselves,  they  were  prevented 
from  landing  by  Austill  and  one  or  two  other  men. 
Two  of  the  Indians  jumped  into  the  water  and 
tried  to  swim  to  the  shore,  while  the  others,  firing 
over  the  gunwale  of  the  boat,  were  sorely  annoying 
the  whites.  Austill  shot  one  of  the  swimmers  but 
the  other  escaped  to  the  shore,  and  joined  the 
savages  there,  informing  them,  as  Dale  supposed, 
of  the  weakness  of  his  force,  which  they  had 
not  yet  discovered.  Dale  called  to  the  men  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river  to  cross  and  assist 
him,  but  they,  after  making  an  abortive  attempt 
to  send  a  canoe  load  across,  remained  idle  spec 
tators  of  the  terribly  unequal  conflict.  Dale, 
seeing  that  no  help  was  to  come  from  them,  and 
knowing  that  the  Indians  would  shortly  overcome 
him  by  sheer  force  of  numbers,  resolved  upon  a 
recklessly  daring  manoeuvre,  namely,  an  attempt 
to  capture  the  Indian  canoe !  He  called  out  to  his 
comrades. 

"  I'm  going  to  fight  the  canoe  with  a  canoe. 
Who  will  go  with  me  ? " 

Austill,  Smith  and  Caesar  volunteered  at  once, 
and  Caesar  took  his  post  as  steersman,  while  the 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  ^7 

three  stalwart  soldiers  were  leaping  into  the  canoe 
for  the  purpose  of  fighting  hand  to  hand  the  nine 
Indians  opposed  to  them.  As  they  shot  out  from 
the  shore  the  savages  on  the  bank  delivered  a 
fierce  'fire  upon  them,  but  fortunately  without 
effect.  The  savages  in  the  canoe  had  exhausted 
their  powder,  and  Dale's  party  would  have  had  an 
advantage  in  this  but  for  the  fact  that  their  own 
powder  had  become  wet  as  they  were  getting  into 
their  canoe.  The  fight  must  be  hand  to  hand,  but 
they  were  not  the  men  to  shrink  from  it.  When 
the  boats  struck,  the  Indians  leaped  up  and  began 
using  their  rifles  as  clubs.  Austill,  who  was  in  the 
bow  of  Dale's  boat,  received  the  first  shock  of  the 
battle,  but  Caesar  promptly  swung  his  boat  around, 
and  grappling  the  other  canoe  held  the  two  side 
by  side  during  the  whole  fight.  Dale's  boat  was 
a  very  small  one,  and  he  to  relieve  it  sprang  into 
the  Indian  canoe,  thereby  giving  his  comrades 
more  room  and  crowding  the  Indians  so  closely 
together  as  to  embarrass  their  movements.  The 
blows  now  fell  thick  and  fast.  Austill  was 
knocked  down  into  the  Indian  boat,  and  an 
Indian  was  about  to  put  him  to  death  when  Smith 


138  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

saved  him  by  braining  the  savage.  Austill  then 
rose,  and  snatching  a  war  club  from  one  of  the 
Indians  used  that  instead  of  his  rifle.  Eight  of 
•  the  savages  were  slain,  and  Dale  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  the  solitary  survivor,  whom  he*  recog 
nized  as  a  young  Muscogee  with  whom  he  had 
been  for  years  on  terms  of  the  most  intimate 
friendship,  and  whom  he  loved,  as  he  declared, 
almost  as  a  brother.  He  lowered  his  up-raised 
rifle  to  spare  his  friend,  but  the  savage  would  not 
accept  quarter.  He  cried  out  in  the  Creek  lan 
guage,  which  Dale  understood  as  well  as  he,  did 
English, 

"  Big  Sam,  you  are  a  man,  and  I  am  another ! 
Now  for  it ! "  and  with  that  the  two  joined  in  a 
struggle  for  life.  A  blow  from  Dale's  gun  ended 
at  once  the  canoe  fight  and  the  life  of  the  young 
brave,  who,  even  from  his  friend,  would  not  accept 
the  mercy  which  his  nation  was  not  ready  to  show 
to  the  whites.  It  is  said  that  to  the  day  of  his 
death  Dale  could  not  speak  of  this  incident  with 
out  shedding  tears. 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  139 

Dale  and  his  comrades  had  still  a  duty  to  do 
and  some  danger  yet  to  encounter.  The  party 
remaining  on  the  bank  was  in  imminent  peril,  and 
must  be  rescued  at  all  hazards.  The  little  canoe 
was  not  large  enough  to  carry  them  all,  and  so  the 
big  one  must  be  cleared  of  the  dead  Indians  in  it, 
and  the  heroes  of  the  canoe  fight  accomplished 
this  under  a  severe  fire  from  the  bank.  Then 
jumping  into  the  captured  boat,  they  paddled  to 
the  shore,  and  taking  their  hard  pressed  comrades 
on  board,  crossed  under  fire  to  the  other  side 
whence  they  marched  to  Fort  Glass,  twelve  miles 
away,  having  dealt  the  savages  a  severe  blow  ' 
without  losing  a  man.  Austill  was  hurt  pretty 
badly  on  the  head,  and  a  permanent  dent  in  his 
skull  attested  the  narrowness  of  his  escape. 

This  battle  was  waged  within  sight  of  the  root 
fortress,  the 'drift  pile  being  indeed  the  cover  from 
which  the  Indians  fought.  Tom,  as  we  know,  went 
to  the  look-out  at  the  beginning  of  the  fight,  and 
he  remained  there  to  the  end  in  the  hope  that  the 
fortune  of  battle  might  possibly  bring  the  whites 
within  call,  and  thus  afford  the  little  refugee  band 
a  chance  of  escape.  No  such  chance  came,  how- 


\ 
140  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

ever,  and  sadly  enough  the  two  boys,  for  Joe  was 
also  in  the  look-out,  watched  the  passage  of  the  last 
of  Dale's  men  across  the  stream,  half  a  mile  below. 

"  Mas'  Tom,"  said  Joe,  "  dem  folks  gwine  right 
straight  to  de  fort." 

"  Yes,  of  course,  said  Tom.    What  of  it  ? " 

"  Nothin',  only  I  wish  I  could  go  wid  'em,  and 
tell  'em  Mas'  Sam's  here  sick." 

"  So  do  I,  Joe,  but  we  can't  go  with  them,  and 
it's  no  use  wishing." 

"  I  reckon  'tain't  no  use,  but  I  can't  help  wish- 
in  for  all  dat.  When  folk's  got  der  own  way  dey 
don't  wish  for  it.  It's  when  you  can't  git  your 
way  dat  you  wish,  ain't  it  ? " 

Tom  was  forced  to  admit  that  Joe  was  right, 
and  that  in  wishing  to  be  with  the  retreating  par 
ty  he  was  not  altogether  unreasonable. 

The  two  boys  sat  there,  looking  and  longing. 
The  savages  had  disappeared  almost  as  suddenly  as 
they  had  come,  and  presently  Joe  sprang  up,  saying. 

"  Dar's  de  little  canoe  lodged  in  the  bushes,  an' 
Fse  gwine  to  fasten  her  to  the  bank  anyhow,  so's 
we'll  have  her  if  we  want  her." 

What   possible    use  they  could  make  of   the 


THE  CANOE  FIGHT.  !4I 

canoe,  it  had  not  entered  Joe's  head  to  ask  perhaps, 
but  he  tied  the  boat  in  the  bushes  nevertheless' 
and  secreted  the  paddle  in  the  drift  pile.  He  then 
visited  the  place  where  Dale's  men  had  been  sur 
prised  at  breakfast,  and  brought  off  the  pack  of 
provisions  which  Dale  had  captured  that  morning 
from  the  savages  and  had  himself  abandoned  in  his 
turn.  The  pack  was  a  well-stored  one,  and  its 
possession  was  a  matter  of  no  little  moment  to  the 
boys,  whose  bill  of  fare  had  hitherto  embraced  no 
bread,  of  which  there  was  here  an  abundance  in 
the  shape  of  ash  cake. 

"  Mas'  Tom,"  said  Joe  that  evening,  "  do  you 
know  my  master? " 

"  Mr.  Butler  ?     Yes,  certainly." 

"  Well,  if  anything  happens  to  poor  Joe,  and  if 
you  ever  gits  to  de  fort  an'  if  Joe  don't,  an'  if  you 
sees  my  master  dar  you'll  tell  him  Joe  never  runned 
away  anyhow,  won't  you." 

"  Yes,  I'll  tell  him  that  Joe." 

"  Even  if  the  Ingins  ketches  me  an'  you  dunno 
whar'  I'se  gone  to,  you'll  tell  him  anyhow  dat  Joe 
never  runned  away  from  him  or  from  you  nuther, 
won't  you,  Mas'  Tom  ?  " 


1 42  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  Of  course,  Joe.  But  there  won't  be  any  chance 
to  tell  him  anything  about  it  unless  we  all  get 
back  to  the  fort,  and  then  you  can  tell  him  for 
yourself.  He  thinks  you  are  dead,  of  course,  and 
doesn't  dream  that  you  ever  ran  away.  You'll  get 
back  safely  if  the  Indians  don't  catch  you,  and  if 
they  catch  you  they'll  catch  all  of  us,  so  I  won't  be 
there  to  tell  your  master  about  you." 

"  Dun  no  'bout  dat,"  replied  Joe.  "  Dey  mought 
catch  Joe  'thout  catchin'  anybody  else,  an'  'thout 
you  nor  nobody  knowin'  nothin'  'bout  it,  and  Joe 
wants  you  to  promise  anyway  dat  you'll  stick  to  it 
to  de  las'  dat  poor  Joe  was  no  runaway  nigger, 
nohow  at  all.  Kin  you  do  dat  for  me,  Mas'  Tom  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Joe,"  said  Tom  laughing, "  I  promise 
you." 

"  Will  you  git  mad  if  Joe  axes  you  to  shake 
han's  on  dat,  Mas'  Tom  ?  I  wants  to  make  sartain 
sure  on  it." 

Tom  laughed,  but  held  out  his  hand,  con 
vinced  that  the  poor  black  boy  was  out  of  spirits 
at  least,  if  not  out  of  his  mind. 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS. 


143 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  BOYS  ARE  DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  ROOT 
FORTRESS. 

AM  was  only  partially  conscious  during 
the  battle  around  his  habitation.  The 
fever,  which  now  rose  and  fell  at  intervals, 
was  usually  highest  during  the  forenoon,  abating 
somewhat  later  in  the  day.  When  it  was  highest 
he  was  always  in  either  an  unconscious  stupor,  or 
a  wild  delirium.  When  the  fever  abated,  however, 
his  consciousness  returned,  and  he  was  capable  of 
talking  and  of  understanding  all  that  was  said.  In 
these  lucid  intervals,  he  insisted  upon  knowing  all 
that  had  happened,  so  that  he  might  tell  the  boys 
what  was  best  to  do.  On  this  day  Tom  had  a 
story  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  to  tell  him, 
about  the  battle  and  the  chance  of  rescue  which 
had  so  narrowly  passed  them.  Sam  was  interested 
in  it  all  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  he  was  still 


[44  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

more  deeply  interested,  it  seemed,  in  the  condition 
of  the  sand  near  the  place  where  he  was  lying. 
He  had  dug  a  little  hole  with  his  hand,  and  feel 
ing  of  the  sand  found  it  decidedly  wet.  Turning 
to  Tom,  he  said  : 

"  The  river  is  rising  rapidly,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  how  did  you  %fmd  it  out  ? " 

"  By  the  sand.  I've  been  watching  it  a  good 
deal  since  the  fall  rains  set  in,  as  I'm  afraid  the 
river  will  drive  us  out  of  here.  You  see,  the 
water  works  easily  through  the  sand,  and  you  can 
always  tell  what  the  level  of  the  river  is,  if  its 
banks  are  sandy,  by  digging  down  to  where  the 
sand  is  wet." 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom,  "  but  the  river  isn't  within  a 
hundred  feet  of  us  yet." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  It  is  within  six  inches  of 
us,"  said  Sam. 

"How's  that?" 

"  Well,  this  bank  is  almost  exactly  level,  and 
when  the  river  gets  above  its  edge  it  spreads  at 
once  all  over  it.  Now  the  sand  is  wet  within  six 
inches  of  the  top,  and  the  river  is  within  six  inches 
of  the  edge  of  the  bank.  When  it  rises  six  or 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  145 

eight  inches  more,  it'll  be  in  here,  and  I'm  afraid 
it  will  rise  that  much  before  morning.  At  any 
rate  we  must  be  ready  for  it." 

"  What  can  we  do  ? "  asked  Tom  in  alarm. 
"  There's  no  place  to  hide  on  the  upper  bank." 

"  We  mustn't  quit  this  bank,  and  we  mustn't 
quit  the  drift-pile  either,"  replied  Sam.  "  You 
must  find  a  good  place,  high  up  in  the  drift  where, 
by  pulling  out  sticks,  you  and  Joe  can  make  a 
place  for  us  to  stay  in." 

"  But,  Sam,  what  if  the  water  gets  to  us 
there  ? " 

"  It  won't  get  to  us  there;" 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Because  the  biggest  freshets  always  come  in 
the  spring,  and  the  top  of  this  drift-pile  was  put 
where  it  is  by  the  biggest  freshets,  so  the  river 
won't  go  near  the  top  in  November.  You  see,  as 
the  drift  floated  on  top  of  the  water  to  its  present 
place,  the  top  of  the  'pile  must  be  the  highest 
point,  or  very  nearly  the  highest,  that  the  water 
ever  reaches.  If  you  can  find  a  good  place  there 
fore  in  the  upper  part  of  the  drift-pile,  we  shall  be 
safe  there.  But  you'd  better  see  about  it  at  once, 


146  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

as  the  water  may  be  in  here  before  morning,  and 
at  any  rate  we  mustn't  allow  ourselves  to  be  taken 
by  surprise.  You'd  better  go  to  the  river  and  set 
a  stake  first  so  you  can  tell  how  fast  the  water 
rises  and  know  when  to  move  into  the  new 
place." 

Tom  set  his  stake  at  the  water's  edge  and 
then  selected  the  most  available  place  he  could 
find  for  the  new  abode.  He  and  Joe  went  dili-' 
gently  to  work,  rearranging  the  loose  sticks  of  drift 
wood  and  even  carrying  many  of  them  clear  out 
of  the  pile,  so  as  to  enlarge  the  hole  they  had 
found  and  make  it  as  .habitable  as  possible. 

"  The  trouble  is,"  said  Tom  when  they  had 
nearly  completed  their  task,  "  that  we  can't  make 
a  smooth  floor,  and  it's  going  to  be  rather  uncom 
fortable  lying  on  loose  logs  and  big  round  sticks 
that  run  every  which  way." 

"  That's  my  business,"  said  Judie  looking  in  at 
the  entrance.  "  I'm  the  housekeeper,  you  know,  and 
I've  thought  of  all  that." 

And  sure  enough  the  little  woman  had  brought 
a  great  pile  of  small,  leafy,  tree  branches  and  bush 
tops,  with  which  she  speedily  filled  up  the  low 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  147 

places  between  the  timbers,  and  covered  the  tim 
bers  themselves  to  a  depth  of  three  or  four  inches, 
making  a  soft  as  well  as  a  level  floor.  She  had 
foreseen  the  difficulty,  and  borrowing  Sam's  knife, 
had  worked  with  all  her  might  to  provide  in 
advance  against  it.  But  the  bushes  and  leaves 
were  not  all  that  she  had  brought.  She  had  col 
lected  also  a  large  quantity  of  gray  moss  with 
which  to  make  a  carpet  for  the  springy  floor. 

"  Now  please  don't  tell  brother  Sam/'  she  said 
when  the  boys  praised  her  thoughtfulness  and  in 
genuity.  "  I  want  to  surprise  him  when  he  comes." 

Tom  and  Joe  promised,  and  Tom  said  they 
would  have  to  call  her  their  "  little  housekeeper" 
hereafter. 

The  river  was  still  rising,  but  more  slowly,  it 
appeared,  than  it  had  done  before.  By  Tom's 
calculations  it  was  coming  up  at  the  rate  of  an 
inch  in  three  hours,  wherefore  Sam  thought  they 
might  safely  remain  where  they  were  until  morn 
ing  at  least,  while  if  the  water  should  come  to  a 
stand  during  the  night,  they  would  have  no  occa 
sion  to  move  at  all,  as  a  fall  would  rapidly  follow, 
if  the  weather  should  remain  clear. 


148  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

Joe  had  worked  faithfully  at  the  task  of  pre 
paring  the  new  place  of  refuge,  but  he  was  not  at 
all  satisfied  with  the  arrangement. 

"  I  tell  you,  Mas'  Tom,"  he  said,  "  wood  '11  float, 
'thout  'tis  live  oak,  an'  dis  here  drif'-pile  '11  jest  raise 
up  an'  float  away,  you'll  see  if  it  don't." 

"  Why  hasn't  it  floated  away  long  ago,  then, 
Joe  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  May  be  it  has.  How  you  know  dis  drif 
didn't  all  on  it  come  here  las'  time  de  river  was 
up?" 

"  Well,  there's  too  much  of  it  for  that,  and  be 
sides,  Sam  says  this  place  is  safe,  and  you  know  he 
is  always  right  about  things  when  he  speaks  pos 
itively  about  them." 

"  Mas'  Tom,  don'  you  know  Mas'  Sam  done 
been  a-talkin'  nonsense  for  two  weeks  now  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  that's  only  when  he's  out  of  his 
head." 

"  How  you  know  when  he's  outen  his  head  an' 
when  he  ain't  ? " 

"  We  know  he's  out  of  his  head  when  he  talks 
nonsense." 

"Well,  maybe    dis    here  's    nonsense.      I  jest 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  149 

knows  it  is,  and  dat's  how  I  know  Mas'  Sam  was 
outen  his  head  when  he  said  it." 

Tom  saw  that  Joe  was  not  to  be  convinced,  and 
so  he  contented  himself  with  saying, 

"  Well,  we'll  see." 

"  Yes,  dat's  jest  it.     We  will  see,  and  feel  too, 
when  we  all  gets  drownded  in  de  water." 

The  water  came  to  a  stand  about  midnight,  and 
was  falling  slowly  the  next  morning.  But  when 
morning  came  it  was  raining  hard,  and  the  rain  was 
evidently  not  a  local  but  a  general  one,  wherefore, 
Tom  feared  that  the  fall  would  shortly  be  changed 
into  a  rise,  and  that  the  bank  would  soon  be  cover 
ed.  He  watched  his  stake  carefully,  visiting  it 
every  half  hour.  At  nine  o'clock  the  river  had 
fallen  three  inches,  and  was  about  eight  inches  be 
low  the  bank.  From  nine  to  ten  it  fell  only 
about  half  an  inch.  Between  ten  and  eleven  the 
fall  was  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch.  Be 
tween  eleven  and  twelve  no  fall  at  all  was  percepti 
ble.  From  twelve  to  one  there  was  a  slight  rise. 
Between  one  and  two  it  rose  nearly  an  inch.  The 
next  hour  brought  with  it  a  rise  of  two  inches. 
By  five  o'clock  the  level  of  the  water  was  barely 


150  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

two  inches  below  the  edge  of  the  bank,  and  as  it 
was  rising  at  the  rate  of  two  or  three  inches  an 
hour,  Sam  thought  it  time  to  remove  from  their 
old  to  their  new  quarters.  The  change  was  of 
advantage  to  the  sick  boy,  who  was  now  getting 
somewhat  better  at  any  rate,  and  when  he  found 
himself  in  the  new  place  the  interest  he  showed 
in  examining  all  the  details  of  its  arrangements,  was 
the  best  possible  evidence  of  improvement. 

"  Come  here,  little  woman,"  he  said  to  Judie, 
"  and  give  an  account  of  yourself.  You  borrowed 
my  knife  yesterday,  and  somebody  has  been  using 
it  in  cutting  bush  tops  to  make  a  smooth  floor 
with,  and  the  idea  was  a  very  good  one.  Can  you 
tell  me  who  it  was  ?  " 

"  Maybe  it  was  Tom,"  she  replied  mischiev 
ously. 

"  No,  it  was  not  Tom,"  Sam  answered.  "  He's 
too  much  of  a  great  awkward  boy  to  think  of  any 
thing  so  comfortable.  You  must  guess  again." 

"  Joe,  then,"  she  said. 

"  No,  it  wasn't  Joe,  either,"  said  Sam.  "  Joe 
can  sleep  on  the  edge  of  a  fence  rail  as  well  as 
anywhere  else,  and  he  never  would  have  thought 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  \  5  i 

of  making  our  floor  soft  and  smooth.  Guess 
.  again." 

"  Maybe  it  was  brother  Sam,"  said  Judie. 

"  Oh,  certainly.  It  must  have  been  I,"  replied 
Sam.  "  I  must  have  done  it.  I'm  so  strong  and 
active  now-a-days.  Yes,  on  reflection,  I  presume  I 
did  it,  and  the  man  in  the  moon  helped  me.  Now 
I  think  it  was  a  very  thoughtful  and  helpful  thing  for 
anybody  to  do,  so  you  ought  to  kiss  me  for  doing 
it,  and  when  the  weather  gets  clear  you  must  throw 
a  kiss  to  the  man  in  the  moon,  too,  for  his  share." 
And  with  that  he  kissed  the  little  housekeeper,  and 
she  felt  herself  abundantly  repaid  for  her  work  and 
for  the  thoughtfulness  she  had  shown.  She  was 
never  so  happy  as  when  Sam  praised  her,  "because 
he's  such  a  splendid  big  brother,"  she  would  ex 
plain. 

Tom,  seeing  that  Sam  was  getting  better  at  last, 
began  to  hope  for  his  complete  recovery,  and  the 
hope  made  him  buoyant  of  spirit  again.  Judie,  too, 
who  watched  and  weighed  every  symptom  in  Sam's 
case,  discovered  to  her  delight  that  he  was  decid 
edly  better,  and  the  discovery  made  her  as  happy  as 
a  healthy  girl  well  can  be.  Poor  Joe  seemed  to  be 


152  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

the  only  miserable  one  in  the  party.  He  said  almost 
nothing,  answering  questions  with  a  simple  "yes" 
or  "  no,"  and  sitting  moodily  in  his  corner,  when  he 
stayed  inside  the  "  drift  cavern" — which  was  Sam's 
name  for  the  new  abode — at  all.  He  spent  most 
of  his  time,  however,  on  top  of  the  pile,  where  he 
watched  the  water  and  the  clouds.  The  rain  had 
ceased,  but  the  river,  which  was  now  creeping  over 
the  broad  bank,  continued  to  rise. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Joe?"  asked  Sam 
after  the  boy  had  gone  out  for  the  twentieth 
time. 

"  I  think  he's  afraid  we're  all  going  to  be 
drowned,"  said  Tom. 

"  Drowned  ?     How.? " 

"  Well,  he  says  wood  will  float,  and  so  he  thinks 
when  the  water  comes  up  under  the  drift-pile,  it 
will  all  float  away." 

"  What  nonsense ! "  exclaimed  Sam.  "  Why 
didn't  you  tell  him  better,  Tom  ? " 

"  I. did;  but  he  sticks  to  it,  and—" 

"  Well,  couldn't  you  explain  it  so  that  he 
would  understand  it  and  not  have  to  trust  to  your 
judgment  for  it?" 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS. 


153 


"  No,  I  couldn't.  The  fact  is,  I  don't  quite 
understand  it  myself.  There  isn't  a  stick  in  this 
whole  pile  that  won't  float,  and  I  don't  quite  under 
stand  why  the  pile  won't.  But  I  don't  doubt  you're 
right  about  it,  Sam.  You  always  are  right  whether 
I  understand  how  things  are  or  not." 

"  Let  me  explain  it  to  you,  then.  Do  you 
know  why  some  things  float  and  others  don't?" 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Because  the  things  that 
float  are  lighter  than  the  things  that  sink." 

"  Not  exactly.  That  log  there  is  too  heavy  for 
you  to  lift,  while  you  can  carry  a  bullet  between 
your  thumb  and  finger.  The  log  is  many  hun 
dred  times  heavier  than  a  bullet,  but  the  log  will 
float  while  the  bullet  will  sink  always." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Tom,  "  and  I  don't  know 
what  does  make  some  things  float  and  other  things 
sink." 

"  Did  you  ever  set  a  teacup  in  the  water  and 
see  it  float  ? " 

"  Yes,  many  a  time." 

"  But  if  you  fill  it  with  water  it  will  sink,  won't 
it?" 

"  Yes,  of  course." 
?* 


154  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

"  Well,  now  I  can  explain  the  thing  to  you,  I 
think.  If  a  thing  is  heavier, — the  whole  thing  I 
mean,  than  the  amount  of  water  it  displaces, — 
that  is,  if  it  is  heavier  than  exactly  its  own  bulk 
of  water,  it  will  sink;  but  if  it  is  lighter  than  its 
own  bulk  of  water  it  will  float." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see." 

"  Now  a  bullet  weighs  a  good  deal  more  than 
its  own  bulk  of  water,  and  so  it  sinks.  A  log 
weighs  less  than  its  own  bulk  of  water,  and  so  it 
floats.  An  empty  teacup  weighs  less  than  a  solid 
body  of  water  equal  to  it  in  size,  and  it  therefore  floats. 
If  you  fill  it  with  water,  however,  you  increase  its 
weight  without  adding  anything  to  the  amount  of 
water  it  displaces, — or  rather,  as  you  let  water 
into  all  the  hollow  space,  you  lessen  by  that  much 
the  amount  of  water  it  must  displace  in  sinking 
without  taking  away  anything  from  its  weight,  and 
so  it  sinks ;  or,  if  you  break  the  teacup  you  lessen 
the  amount  of  water  it  must  displace  without  less 
ening  its  weight,  and  so  it  sinks  in  that  case,  too. 
Do  you  understand  that  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  do,"  said  Tom ;  "  but  I  don't 
exactly  see  how  it  applies  to  the  drift-pile." 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  155 

"  I'll  explain  that  presently.  I  want  to  make 
it  plain  first  that  the  ability  of  a  thing  to  float 
depends  not  on  its  weight,  but  on  its  weight  as 
compared  with  that  of  a  like  bulk  of  water.  This 
comparative  or  relative  weight  is  called  specific 
gravity,  and  in  measuring  the  specific  gravity  of 
substances  water  is  taken  as  the  standard  usually, 
though  sometimes  gold  is  used  for  that  purpose. 
Now  to  come  to  the  drift-pile.  When  the  water 
rises  say  two  or  three  feet,  it  will  be  above  the 
level  of  the  lower  logs,  and  these  would  float 
away,  if  they  were  free,  because  their  specific 
gravity  is  less  than  that  of  water.  But  there  is 
twenty  feet  of  other  timber  on  top  of  them,  and 
its  weight  must  be  added  to  theirs.  The  water 
displaced  is  exactly  equal  to  their  bulk,  while  the 
weight  is  many  hundred  times  greater  than  theirs. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  do.  You  mean  that  the  water 
must  come  high  enough  to  pretty  nearly  cover 
the  whole  drift-pile  before  any  of  it  can  float." 

"  Yes.  The  pile  must  be  considered  as  a 
whole,  and  it  won't  float  until  there  is  water 
enough  to  float  the  whole.  The  bottom  logs  can't 


156  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

float  while  those  above  them  are  clear  out  of  water, 
if  their  weight  rests  on  the  bottom  logs,  as  it  does 
in  the  drift-pile.  You  see  when  you  put  anything 
into  the  water,  it  sinks  until  it  has  displaced  a  bulk 
of  water  equal  to  its  own  weight,  and  then  stops 
sinking.  In  other  words,  that  part  of  the  floating 
thing  which  goes  under  the  water  is  exactly  the 
size  of  a  body  of  water  equal  in  weight  to  the 
whole  thing.  If  a  log  floats  with  just  half  of  it 
self  above  water,  you  know  that  the  log  weighs 
exactly  the  same  as  half  its  own  bulk  of  water,  or, 
in  other  words,  that  its  specific  gravity  is  just  half 
that  of  water.  Water  two  inches  deep  won't  float 
a  great  saw-log,  because  a  great  saw-log  weighs 
more  than  the  amount  of  water  it  takes  to  cover 
its  lower  part  two  or  three  inches  deep ;  and  water 
two  or  three  feet  deep  won't  float  a  drift-pile  twenty 
feet  high,  because  such  a  drift-pile  weighs  a  good 
deal  more  than  a  body  of  water  two  or  three  feet 
deep,  of  its  own  length  and  width.  But  even  if 
the  water  were  to  rise  to  the  top  of  the  hammock, 
the  pile  wouldn't  float  away.  It  would  float,  of 
course,  and  some  of  the  wood  near  its  edges 
would  be  carried  away,  but  the  main  pile  would 


DRIVEN  OUT  OF  THE  FORTRESS.  157 

remain  here,  because  it  is  all  tangled  together  and 
can't  go  away  except  in  one  great  mass.  It  is  so 
•firmly  lodged  against  the  trees  as  to  prevent  that, 
and  as  a  freshet  big  enough  to  cover,  or  nearly 
cover  it,  would  bring  down  a  great  quantity  of  new 
drift  and  deposit  it  here,  the  pile  would  grow  bigger 
rather  than  smaller.  But  the  river  won't  get  very  high 
at  this  season,  or  at  any  rate  it  won't  rise  to  any 
where  near  the  top  of  the  hammock,  as  I  have 
already  explained  to  you,  because  it  is  evidently 
only  the  biggest  freshets  that  ever  come  near  the 
top,  and  the  biggest  freshets  never  come  in  the 
fall,  but  always  in  the  spring.  It  isn't  rising  fast 
enough  either.  It  isn't  rising  nearly  so  fast  now 
as  it  was  before  it  got  over  the  bank." 

"  Why,  how  do  you  know  that,  Sam  ?  You 
haven't  been  to  look." 

"  No,  but  I  know  it,  nevertheless,  simply  because 
I  know  that  water,  left  to  itself,  will  find  its  level." 

"  I  don't  see  what  that's  got  to  do  with  it," 
said  Tom. 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  it  has  something  to  do  with 
it  for  all  that,"  replied  Sam ;  "  and  I  can  make  you 
see  how,  too." 


158  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

He  paused,  to  think  the  matter  over  anc 
determine  how  to  present  it  to  Tom's  comprehen 
sion. 

"  You  see,"  he  then  resumed,  "  that  the  river 
inside  its  banks  is  about  four  hundred  yards  wide. 
When  it  rises  above  the  banks,  however,  it  spreads 
out  over  the  level  ground,  and  becomes,  in  some 
places,  many  miles  wide,  averaging  a  mile  at  least 
in  width.  Now  there  is  only  a  certain  amount  of 
water  coming  into  the  river  every  hour.  The 
rain  has  stopped,  but  the  soil  is  full  of  water,  and 
so  there  is  about  as  much  running  into  the  river 
now  as  there  was  while  the  rain  lasted.  But  the 
surface  of  the  stream  is  now  many  times  greater 
than  it  was,  and  as  water  finds  its  level,  all  that 
comes  into  the  river  spreads  out  over  its  whole 
surface,  and  of  course  doesn't  raise  its  level  nearly 
so  much  as  the  same  quantity  did  while  the  stream 
was  still  within  its  banks.  Do  you  understand 
now  ? " 

"  What  a  great  big  brother  you  are,  Sam,  any 
how  ! "  was  all  the  reply  Tom  made. 


WHERE  IS  JOE  f  j  5  9 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

WHERE    IS    JOE? 

JT  was  now  getting  late,  and  Sam  knew 
that  it  was  not  well  for  him  to  talk  longer. 
He  felt  so  much  better,  however,  that  he 
knew  he  would  continue  to  talk  in  spite  of 
himself  unless  the  whole  party  should  go  to  sleep 
at  once.  Joe  had  not  been  in  the  drift  cavern  for 
more  than  two  hours,  and  Sam,  observing  his  pro 
longed  absence,  said : 

"  Tom,  I'm  afraid  some  of  us  have  hurt  poor 
Joe's  feelings.  Go  and  look  at  your  water-mark, 
and  while  you  are  out,  find  the  poor  fellow  and  find 
out  what's  the  matter  with  him.  He's  a  good  boy 
and  has  done  his  part,  faithfully  ever  since  we 
started.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  him  moping." 

Tom  went  out  and  examined  his  stake,  which 
showed  that  the  water  was  not  more  than  an  inch 


160  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

or  two  over  the  bank,  and  was  not  rising  very 
rapidly  now ;  but  he  could  see  nothing  of  Joe  any 
where.  He  went  to  the  look-out,  but  the  boy  was 
not  there,  and  a  diligent  search  through  the  drift- 
pile,  showed  that  he  was  nowhere  .in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  the  fortress.  Tom  was  now  fairly  alarm- 
ed,  and  returning,  was  about  to  report  the  facts 
to  Sam,  when  little  Judie,  in  a  whisper,  informed 
him  that  the  big  brother  was  asleep.  As  his  fever 
had  risen  somewhat,  Judie  rightly  thought  it  better 
not  to  disturb  him,  as  he  certainly  could  not  aid 
in  any  way  in  finding  Joe. 

"  I  must  just  think,"  Tom  said  to  himself,  "  as 
Sam  does,  and  then  I  can  do  all  there  is  to  be 
done.  Now  I  know  Joe  isn't  anywhere  in  the  ham 
mock,  because  I  knew  every  place  he  could  squeeze 
himself  into,  and  I've  looked  in  every  one  of  them. 
It's  no  use  then  to  waste  time  looking  there  any  more. 
He  must  have  left  here,  either  accidentally  or  on 
purpose.  He  couldn't  have  slipped  off  the  drift 
and  drowned,  because  he  can  swim  pretty  well  and 
would  have  swam  out  in  a  minute.  There  is  no 
other  way  in  which  he  can  have  left  here  by  acci 
dent,  unless  an  Indian  has  killed  him  on  the  drift- 


WHERE  IS  JOE?  161 

pile  somewhere,  and  if  that  were  so  I  would  have 
found  his  body.  He  must  have  run  away  on  pur 
pose." 

But  just  as  Tom  reached  this  point  in  his 
thinking  he  remembered  the  earnestness  with 
which  poor  Joe  had  begged  him  to  bear  witness  in 
any  and  every  event  that  he  was  not  "  a  runaway 
nigger."  And  this  reminded  Tom  of  all  the  queer 
ways  he  had  noticed  in  Joe  of  late.  The  boy  must 
have  had  a  premonition,  he  thought,  that  some 
thing  was  going  to  happen  to  him.  Only  two 
theories  remained.  One  was  that  Joe  had  gone  crazy 
under  his  long  exile  from  civilized  life  and  had 
madly  put  an  end  to  himself  by  jumping  into  the 
river ;  and  the  other  that,  persisting  in  his  belief 
in  the  instability  of  the  drift-pile,  he  had  gone  to 
the  upper  bank  for  safety  and  had  fallen  asleep 
there.  In  that  event  he  must  be  found,  lest  an  In 
dian  should  discover  him  in  the  morning  and  put 
him  to  death.  Tom  went  -ashore  after  explaining 
his  purpose  to  Judie,  so  that  she  might  not  be 
alarmed  at  his  absence,  and  literally  spent  the  en 
tire  night  in  hunting  for  the  black  boy.  Joe  was 

nowhere  to  be  found,  and  when  daylight   came, 

ii 


1 62  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

Tom  saw  that  a  further  search  was  of  no  use  what 
ever,  and  he  therefore  returned  sadly  to  the  drift 
cavern.  The  water  was  now  going  down  again, 
and  the  bank  was  free  from  it,  but  the  sand  in  the 
root  fortress  was  still  too  wet  to  sit  or  lie  upon,  and 
so  Tom  made  no  immediate  preparation  for  their 
return. 

Sam's  fever  was  very  slight  that  morning,  and 
his  first  question  was  about  Joe.  Tom  told  him  of 
his  night's  search,  and  Sam's  deduction  from  all 
the  facts  was  that  the  poor  boy  had  committed 
suicide,  had  been  killed  by  an  Indian  and  thrown 
into  the  river,  or  had  fallen  in  accidentally  and 
drowned., 

"  He  would  never  have  left  us  in  any  case," 
said  Sam,  "  and  even  had  he  been  less  faithful,  he 
would  have  been  afraid  to  run  away,  not  knowing 
where  to  run  or  how  to  take  care  of  himself  in  the 
woods." 

They  were  too  much  grieved  for  Joe's  loss, 
to  relish  their  breakfast,  and  that  meal  was  dis 
patched  very  quickly.  Tom  watched  the  falling 
of  the  water  all  day,  and  at  night  reported  that  the 
river  was  well  inside  its  banks  again. 


A  FAMINE. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A    FAMINE. 

| HE  river  having  gone  down  until  no 
water  remained  on  the  sandy  bank,  Tom 
reported  the  fact  and  added, 

"  Now  let's  move  back  again  to  the  root-for 
tress.  It's  a  safer  place  than  this,  by  a  good  deal, 
if  it  isn't  quite  so  big  or  quite  so  comfortable." 

"  No,  we  mustn't  go  back  yet,"  said  Judie,  who 
had  visited  the  fortress  before  Tom  had,  "  because 
the  sand  in  there  is  as  wet  as  can  be,  and  I  can't 
let  my  big  sick  brother  lie  on  it." 

"  There,  Tom,"  said  Sam,  "  my  doctor  forbids 
my  return  yet  awhile,  and  a  sick  man  always  must 
obey  the  doctor  you  know.  Besides,  Judie  is  right. 
It  won't  do  for  any  of  us  to  lie  on  wet  sand ;  we 
must  wait  till  it  dries  ;  but  that  won't  be  very  long 
if  the  river  continues  to  go  down." 


164  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

Accordingly  they  spent  one  more  night  in  the 
drift  cavern.  Early  the  next  morning  Judie  went 
to  the  fortress,  and  returning  said,  playing  doctor. 

"  Now,  then,  Mr.  Hardwicke,  the  floor  of  your 
lower  house  is  quite  dry,  and  I  think  it  will  be 
safe  to  move  back  again.  Will  you  have  your 
breakfast  first,  or  will  you  wait  until  you  get  back 
home  again  before  eating  anything?  " 

"  Oh,  let's  wait,  by  all  means,  and  eat  breakfast 
in  the  dear  old  root-fortress,"  said  Tom,  and  as 
Sam  made  no  objection,  it  was  so  arranged. 

By  nine  o'clock  the  moss  carpet  was  laid  in  the 
root-fortress  and  the  little  party  was  back  in  its 
old  quarters  again.  The  vacant  corner  which  had 
been  Joe's,  reminded  them  sadly  of  his  disappear 
ance.  Poor  fellow!  they  had  learned  to  love  him 
almost  as  a  brother,  and  they  could  not  think  of 
him  now  without  tears.  When  three  people  sit 
down  with  a  silent  grief,  their  conversation  is  very 
apt  to  be  lively,  or,  if  they  cannot  quite  accomplish 
that,  they  are  sure  to  talk  only  of  indifferent 
matters,  and  so  it  was  in  the  present  case.  Judie 
was  the  first  to  break  the  silence  which  had  fallen 
upon  all. 


A  FAMINE.  165 

"  Tom,"  she  said  playfully,  "  I'm  afraid  you're 
not  a  good  provider.  Here  we  are,  hungry  as 
wolves,  and  you  haven't  brought  us  a  mite  of  any 
thing  to  eat.  You've  moved  everything  but  the 
provisions,  and  you've  forgotten  them  entirely." 

Master  Tom  admitted  the  grievousness  of  his 
fault  and  returned  at  once  to  the  drift  cavern  after 
the  forgotten  provision  pack.  The  bread,  as  they 
all  knew,  was  long  ago  exhausted,  but  plenty  of 
meat  remained,  and  this  Tom  presently  brought. 
When  he  opened  the  pack  a  -disagreeable  odor 
spread  itself  at  once  over  the  little  room. 

"  Phew !  what's  that  ?  "  said  Tom,  and  putting 
his  nose  to  the  meat,  he  looked  up  in  blank  con 
sternation,  saying : 

"The  meat  is  spoiled,  Sam!  What  on  earth 
shall  we  do  ? " 

The  case  was  an  alarming  one  certainly.  They 
were  hungry,  and  Sam,  whose  returning  health 
had  brought  with  it  a  ravenous  appetite,  was  par 
ticularly  so.  He  needed  wholesome,  nourishing 
food  now  more  than  anything  else,  as  he  knew. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  after  thinking  the  matter  over, 
"  it  can 't  be  helped.  There's  nothing  for  it  but  to 


1 66  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

fall  back  on  sweet  potatoes  till  I  get  strong  enough 
to  go  hunting.  You  must  go  to  the  potato  field 
Tom,  and  bring  some." 

There  had  been  but  one  field  of  corn  in  the 
neighborhood  at  first,  and  the  various  parties  of 
Indians  who  had  camped  in  its  vicinity  had  long 
ago  carried  away  the  last  ear  of  corn  from  that,  as 
the  boys  knew  very  well.  The  river  was  altogether 
too  high  now  for  mussels  to  be  got,  and  so  the 
sweet  potatoes  in  a  field  half  a  mile  away,  were 
their  only  resource. 

Tom  sat  out  at  once  in  quest  of  them,  carefully 
looking  out  for  lurking  savages.  He  was  gone  more 
than  an  hour,  and  just  as  Sam  was  growing  really 
uneasy  on  his  account,  he  returned,  empty  handed  ! 

"  There  isn't  a  potato  in  the  field,"  he  said  as 
he  sat  down  in  utter  dejection.  "  The  Indians 
have  dug  every  one  of  them." 

This  announcement  was  indeed  an  alarming 
one  to  the  whole  party.  They  were  without  an 
ounce  of  food  of  any  sort  within  their  utmost  reach, 
and  it  was  plain  that  they  must  starve,  unless  they 
could  hit  upon  some  new  device,  by  which  to  get 
a  supply. 


A  FAMINE.  ify 

"  I  must  go  hunting,  sick  or  well,"  said  Sam 
rising ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  got  upon  his  feet, 
than  he  felt  the  utter  impossibility  of  doing  any 
thing  of  the  kind. 

"  It's  of  no  use,"  he  said  sadly.  "  I  can't  make 
my  legs  carry  me,  Tom,  and  so  we  must  depend 
upon  you.  Go  into  the  woods  there  by  the  creek, 
and  sit  down  or  stand  still  till  you  see  something 
in  the  way  of  game,  and  then  take  good  aim  before 
you  shoot,  for  we  mustn't  waste  any  of  our  powder." 

With  this  he  shook  the  horn  to  ascertain  how 
much  remained  in  it,  and  was  horrified  to  find  it 
empty !  Tom  remembered  that  the  last  time  he 
had  loaded  the  gun  he  had  used  the  last  grain  of 
powder  in  the  horn. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Sam,  "  we  have  only  one 
charge  of  powder  between  us  and  starvation,  and 
it  won't  do  to  waste  that,  Tom.  You  can  shoot 
pretty  well  when  you  have  time  enough  to  take 
good  aim,  and  I  suppose,  if  you  make  up  your 
mind  beforehand  that  you  won't  shoot  till  you 
know  you  can  kill  what  you  shoot  at,  it  is  safe 
enough.  At  any  rate  we  must  risk  it.  Remember, 
however,  that  you  mustn't  run  the  risk  of  wasting 


1 68  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

this  load  in  your  anxiety  to  kill  the  first  thing  you 
see  to  shoot  at.  There  is  plenty  of  game  in  the 
woods,  so  if  you  can't  get  a  sure  shot  at  one  thing, 
wait  for  another.  Get  a  sure  shot  anyhow,  if  it 
takes  you  all  day.  It  must  be  something  big 
enough  to  last  us  awhile,  too.  You  mustn't  shoot 
at  anything  less  than  a  turkey  or  a  'possum,  and 
you  mustn't  shoot  at  all  till  you  get  very  close,  be 
cause  if  you  miss,  we  will  starve.  Better  take  all 
day  to-day  and  all  day  to-morrow  than  to  miss 
when  you  fire." 

And  after  many  instructions  and  cautionings, 
Tom   sallied  forth    in    search    of   game.      Coins: 

o  o 

into  the  woods  for  a  considerable  distance,  he  sat 
down  on  a  log  in  the  thick  undergrowth  and 
waited  patiently  for  the  appearance  of  some  animal 
which  could  be  eaten.  Hour  after  hour  passed, 
and  Tom  fell  asleep.  How  long  he  slept  he  did 
not  know,  but  waking  suddenly  he  saw  a  flock  of 
wild  turkeys  within  a  few  yards  of  him.  Raising 
his  gun  and  taking  a  very  deliberate  aim  he  pulled 
the  trigger.  No  explosion  followed,  but  the  clicking 
of  the  hammer  was  enough  to  put  the  game  to  flight. 
Poor  Tom  was  disheartened,  but  it  would  not 


A  FAMINE.  169 

do  to  give  up,  and  so  he  carefully  picked  the  edge 
of  his  flint  with  his  knife  and  walked  further  into 
the  woods. 

He  had  not  walked  very  far,  with  cautious 
steps,  when  he  heard  a  rustling  in  the  bushes 
just  ahead  of  him.  At  first  he  thought  it  must  be 
an  Indian,  and  drawing  back  he  waited  for  further 
developments.  A  grunt  soon  enlightened  him  as  to 
the  character  of  the  game,  and  creeping  through 
the  bushes  he  found  himself  close  to  a  fat  young 
hog,  one  of  the  many  running  wild  in  those  woods 
and  thickets.  That  was  something  worth  having. 
Levelling  his  gun  again,  he  again  pulled  the  trig 
ger,  but  without  effect,  and  opening  the  pan  he 
discovered  that  during  the  rain,  while  in  the  drift 
cavern,  the  "  priming,"  as  the  powder  in  the  pan  is 
called,  had  been  reduced  to  a  paste  by  water.  To 
fire  the  gun  was  out  of  the  question,  and  so  club 
bing  it,  Tom  ran  at  the  hog  and  dealt  him  a  blow 
on  the  head,  hoping  in  that  way  to  secure  the 
game  which  he  could  not  shoot.  The  blow  fell 
upon  the  nose  of  the  animal,  however,  and  while  it 
brought  a  squeal  of  pain  from  him,  it  produced  no 
beneficial  result.  The  hog  ran  rapidly  away,  and 


I/O  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

Tom  was  left  with  nothing  better  than  a  broken 
gun  to  carry  back  to  the  fortress. 

Arriving  there  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon  he  told  the  doleful  story  of  his  failure,  and 
sitting  down  burst  into  tears. 

"  Come,  come !  "  said  Sam.  "  This  will  never 
do,  old  fellow.  It's  bad  enough  as  it  is  without 
crying  about  it.  We'll  come  all  right  if  you'll  only 
keep  your  courage  up,  and  give  me  a  chance  to 
think.  I'm  getting  better  every  day  now,  and  if 
we  can  only  hold  out  a  few  days  longer,  I'll  be  on 
my  feet  again,  and  then  we'll  go  straight  to  Fort 
Glass.  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  walk  at  all,  we'll 
start,  meantime  we  must  get  something  to  eat,  and 
to  do  that  I  must  think.  Let  me  see.  The  gun 
is  of  no  use  now,  but  there  are  other  ways  of  get 
ting  game  besides  shooting  it.  We  must  set  some 
traps.  This  spoiled  meat  will  do  for  bait.  Get  me 
a  good  piece  of  poplar  wood,  Tom,  or  cypress,  or 
.  some  other  sort,  that  I  can  whittle  easily,  and  I'll 
make  some  figure-four  triggers.  Then  I'll  tell  you 
how  to  make  dead-falls,  and  you  must  set  as  many 
of  them  as  you  can  to  make  sure  of  getting  some 
thing  to  eat  by  to-morrow  morning." 


A  FAMINE.  171 

Tom  brought  the  wood  and  Sam  soon  whittled 
out  several  sets  of  triggers. 

"  Now  do  you  know  how  to  set  a  trap  with 
these  triggers,  Tom  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I've  sei;  many  a  partridge  trap  with 
figure  fours." 

"  Very  well  then.  Now  you  must  set  dead 
falls  in  the  same  way.  That  is,  instead  of  a  trap 
you  must  set  a  log.  You  see  I've  made  the  trig 
gers  big  and  strong,  and  you  must  put  them  under 
one  end  of  as  heavy  a  log  as  you  can  lift.  Then 
you  must  lay  other  logs  on  top  to  make  it  as  heavy 
as  possible,  and  bait  it  with  a  piece  of  the  spoilt 
meat.  If  anything  undertakes  to  eat  the  meat  to 
night,  the  dead-fall  will  break  its  neck  or  back, 
sure.  Here  are  six  sets  of  triggers  and  you  must 
set  six  dead-falls.  We  can  go  hungry  till  to 
morrow,  can't  we,  little  woman  ?  "  chucking  Judie 
under  the  chin. 

"  We  can  try,  anyhow,"  answered  the  little 
woman  as  cheerfully  as  she  could,  though  she  was 
by  no  means  confident  that  she  could  do  anything 
of  the  sort.  She  was  already  faint  and  almost  sick, 
and  whether  she  could  live  till  morning  or  not 


172  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

was  an  undetermined  question  in  her  mind.  To 
tell  the  truth,  Sam  himself  felt  but  little  confidence 
in  his  device.  The  spoiled  meat,  he  knew,  would 
attract  only  the  larger  animals,  and  such  dead-falls 
as  Tom  could  set  were  by  no  means  certain  to  kill 
these  in  their  fall.  It  was  the  very  best  thing  he 
could  do,  however,  and  he  must  trust  to  it  in  the 
absence  of  any  better  reliance.  He  concealed  his 
anxiety  therefore,  and  after  receiving  Tom's  report 
of  his  operations  in  dead-fall  setting,  he  drew  Judie 
to  his  side  and  told  her  a  fairy  story,  as  night  fell. 
All  went  to  sleep  at  last,  and  when  morning  came 
Sam  aroused  Tom  very  early  and  sent  him  to 
examine  the  traps.  The  boy  was  gone  for  an 
hour  or  more,  when  he  returned  with  downcast 
countenance.  Two  of  the  traps  had  been  thrown, 
but  there  was  no  game  under  them,  while  the  four 
others  remained  undisturbed. 

Here  was  a  bad  out-look  certainly,  and  they 
had  not  tasted  food  now  for  more  than  thirty 
hours ! 


WHICH  ENDS  THE  STORY. 


1/3 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WHICH     ENDS     THE     STORY. 

JOMETHING  must  be  done,"  said  Sam,  as 
soon  as  he  had  heard  Tom's  report, 
"  and  quickly  too.  Let  me  think  a  few 
minutes.  We  are  beginning  now  to  be  hungry 
enough  to  eat  anything,  and  when  people  get  that 
hungry  there  are  a  good  many  things  that  can  be 
eaten.  I'll  tell  you  what  we  must  do,  Tom — " 

But  what  it  was  that  Sam  had  hit  upon,  Tom 
never  knew.  Just  as  this  point  in  the  conversa 
tion  was  reached  Joe  came  running  in  through 
the  alley-way,  his  face  flattened  out  into  a  broad 
grin  of  delight,  his  teeth  and  eyes  shining,  while 
he  danced  all  over  the  fortress,  shaking  hands 
over  and  over  again,  and  .saying, 

"Hi!  Miss  Judie!  Hi!  Mas'  Tom!  Hi! 
Mas1  Sam  !  How  does  ye  all  do  now  ?  Did  you 


174  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

think  Joe  had  runned  away?"  Joe  tell  ye  he  never 
runned  away.  Joe  ain't  no  runaway  nigger,  no 
how  at  all,  and  de  Ingins  ain't  ketched  Joe  nuther. 
Joe's  back  all  safe  an'  sound,  sartin  sure !  Hi! " 

"  What  on  earth  ails  you,  Joe  ?  You're  out  of 
your  wits,  poor  fellow,"  said  Sam,  convinced  that 
the  black  boy  was  demented. 

"  No  I  ain't  nuther,"  Mas'  Sam,  he  replied.  "  Joe 
ain't  crazy  one  bit,  but  he's  glad  sure." 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Joe,  since  you  left 
us  ?  " 

"  Whar?  Why  to  de  fort,  an'  Fse  dun  brung 
back  a  rescue  too,  didn't  I  tell  you?  Laws  a 
massy,  dat's  what  I  corned  in  fust  for  to  tell  you. 
I'se  done  been  to  Fort  Glass  and  brung  a  big 
rescue  party,  and  de  white  folks  dey  said,  long  as 
Joe  brung  us  he's  'titled  to  tell  de  good  news  fust, 
an'  dat's  how  I'm  here  while  de  rest  is  outside  de 
drif." 

"  Go  and  see,  Tom,"  said  Sam,  afraid  to  believe 
this  story  of  the  seemingly  insane  boy,  who,  he 
thought,  had  become  crazed  from  long  brooding 
over  the  chances  of  rescue.  Tom  got  up  to  go, 
but  as  he  started  Mr.  Hardwicke  himself  met  him 


WHICH  ENDS  THE  STORY.  ^5 

in  the    door  way  and  caught   him    in    his    arms. 
Tandy  Walker  was  just  behind. 

"  Well,  this  beats  all,"  said  Tandy.  "  I've  done  a 
good  many  jobs  o'  rescuin'  in  my  time,  but  I  never 
yit  found  the  rescued  hid  in  the  roots  of  a  tree  an' 
fortified  with  a  drift-pile.  An'  if  I'm  a  jedge  o' 
sich  things,  this  here  party's  a'most  starved.  I've 
seed  hungry  people  afore  now,  an'  I  say  le's  have  a 
breakfast  sot  right  away  for  these  here  little  ones." 
Tandy  was  right,  as  we  know,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  an  abundant  breakfast  was  spread  for 
Sam  and  Tom  and  little  Judie.  The  rescue  party 
consisted  of  twenty  stout  fellows  from  the  fort, 
and  after  breakfast  a  rude  litter  was  provided  for 
Sam,  and  crossing  the  river  in  the  little  canoe  the 
party  began  its  homeward  march.  Tom  was  glad 
to  walk,  the  walk  being  in  that  direction.  Judie 
was  carried,  part  of  the  time  in  her  father's  arms, 
part  of  it  in  Tandy  Walker's,  and  part  on  the  broad 
shoulders  of  Caesar,  the  negro  man  who  had  par 
ticipated  in  the  canoe  fight.  Sam  was  stretched 
on  a  litter,  carried  by  four  of  the  men,  and  Joe  in 
sisted  on  walking  always  by  his  side,  though  he 
fell  behind  now  and  then  for  the  purpose  of  dan- 


1 76  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

cing  a  little  jig  of  delight.  He  would  execute  this 
movement,  and  then  running,  catch  up  with  the 
litter  again. 

"  Tell  me,  Joe,"  said  Sam  after  the  black  boy  had 
become  somewhat  quiet  again,  "  tell  me  all  about 
this  thing." 

"  'Bout  what  thing,  Mas'  Sam  ?  " 

"  About  your  going  to  the  fort  and  all  that. 
How  did  you  manage  it,  and  how  came  you  to 
think  of  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  Mas'  Sam,  when  you  was  at 
your  wust,  I  got  a  thinkin',  an'  I  thought  out  a  plan 
dat  Mas'  Tom  said  was  a  good  un.  Him  an'  me 
was  to  make  a  raf  out'n  cane,  an'  pole  it  up  de 
river  wid  you  an'  little  Miss  Judie  on  it,  an'  den  I 
was  to  go  cross  de  country  to  de  fort  an'  bring 
help.  Jes'  as  we  got  de  raf  ready,  howsomever, 
Mas'  Tom  he  axed  me  if  I  know  de  way  to  de  fort, 
an'  as  I  didn't  know  nothin'  'bout  it,  I  jis'  sot  down 
an'  gived  up.  But  I  kep'  a  thinkin'  all  de  time,  an' 
I  said  to  myself,  '  Joe,  you're  a  fool  anyhow,  an'  you 
mustn't  tell  your  plans  till  you  know  dey're  good 
uns,  an'  you  ain't  got  sense  enough  to  know  dat 
till  you  try  'em.'  An'  so  I  sot  my  head  to  work  to 


WHICH  ENDS  THE  STORY.  ijj 

git  up  a  new  plan,  meanin'  to  try  it  all  by  myself. 
When  de  big  fight  took  place  an'  I  seed  the  white 
folks  marchin'  away,  I  said  out  'loud,  '  dem  dare 
folks  is  gwine  right  straight  to  de  fort,'  an'  I  said 
to  myself,  '  I  means  to  go  dere  too  if  I  kin.'  It 
took  me  two  days  'n  more  to  git  de  thing  fixed  up 
right  in  my  min'. 

"  I  was  willin'  enough  to  risk  Injuns,  but  I  was 
afear'd  you'n  Mas'  Tom  'ud  think  Joe  was  a  runaway 
nigger  if  I  never  corned  back,  an'  dat  troubled  me. 
I  fixed  dat  at  las'  by  makin'  Mas'  Tom  mos'  swar 
he'd  stick  to  it  dat  I  wasn't  no  runaway  nigger,  an' 
den  I  sot  out.  I  crossed  de  river  in  de  little  canoe 
an'  hid  her  in  de  bushes.  I  found  de  place  whar 
de  white  folks  started  from,  an'  I  jes'  follered  dere 
trail.  Dat  was  my  plan.  I  know'd  dey  would 
make  a  big  easy  trail,  dere  was  so  many  of  'em,  an 
I  meant  to  follow 'em.  It  took  me  more'n  two 
whole  nights  to  git  to  de  fort,  dough,  'cause  de 
creeks  was  all  high  an'  de  brush  very  tangley. 
When  I  tole  de  folks  about  you'n  Miss  Judie  an' 
Mas'  Tom,  dey  didn't  more'n  half  believe  me,  an' 
when  I  tole  'em  I'd  lead  'em  straight  to  whar  you 
was,  an'  dey  said  dey'd  sculp  me  if  I  didn't,  I  jest 

'    8*  12 


THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

said  all  right,  'cause  if  we  don'  find  Mas'  Sam  an' 
little  Miss  Judie  an'  Mas'  Tom  no  more,  den  I'd 
rather  be  sculped'n  not,  anyhow.  But  we  did  fin' 
you,  didn't  we  Mas'  Sam  ?  "  and  at  this  Jo  had  to 
drop  behind  again  and  execute  a  rapid  jig  move 
ment,  as  a  relief  to  his  feelings. 

The  government  forces  under  General  Jack 
son,  together  with  the  settlers  themselves,  were  now 
pressing  the  savages  very  hard.  Battles  were 
fought  almost  every  day,  and  every  battle  weaken 
ed  the  Indians.  In  December,  General  Claiborne 
invaded  the  Holy  Ground,  and  utterly  destroyed 
Weatherf ord's  command,  as  a  result  of  which  that 
chief  surrendered  to  Jackson  and  the  war  was 
practically  at  an  end.  A  few  more  battles  were  ne 
cessary  before  a  final  peace  could  be  made,  and  the 
last  of  them  was  fought  on  the  27th  of  March, 
1814,  at  Horseshoe  Bend;  but  after  the  battle  of 
December  23d  a  little  more  than  a  month  after 
Sam's  party  was  rescued,  the  country  north  and 
west  of  the  Alabama  river  was  comparatively  free 
from  savages,  who  no  longer  dared  wander  about 
in  small  bands,  plundering  and  burning  houses,  and 


WHICH  ENDS  THE  STORY. 

the  planters  began  to  return  to  their  homes  to  get 
ready  for  spring  work. 

When  Mr.  Hardwicke  was  about  to  go  home 
with  his  children,  he  sent  for  Joe.  When  the  boy 
came,  little  Judie  handed  him  a  carefully  folded 
document,  saying, 

"  Here's  a  present  for  you,  Joe. 

"  What's  dis  ? "  asked  Joe,  unable  to  guess  what 
possible  use  he  could  have  for  such  a  paper  as 
that,  inasmuch  as  he  couldn't  read  it  to  save  his 
life. 

"  These  are  your  free  papers,  Joe,"  said  Sam. 
Father  has  bought  you  from  Mr.  Butler,  for  the 
purpose  of  setting  you  free,  as  a  reward  for  your 
good  conduct." 

Joe  evidently  wanted  to  say  something,  but  did 
not  know  how. 

"  Are  you  glad  to  be  free,  Joe  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Hardwicke. 

"  Ain't  I  though  ?  "  and  Joe's  feet  began  to 
shuffle  as  if  a  jig  were  coming  in  spite  of  his  desire 
to  behave  well. 

"  Well,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Hardwicke,  "  I  mean  to 
give  you  a  fair  chance  in  life,  and  I've  thought  the 


r8o  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

matter  over  carefully.  You  are  free  now  to  do 
precisely  as  you  please,  and  you  can  live  where  you 
like.  But  I've  a  proposition  to  make — a  plan  for 
you.  Do  you  know  my  cypress  farm, — the  little 
one  down  in  the  fork  of  the  two  creeks  ? " 

"  De  one  whar'  ole  uncle  Peter  Dun  lived  so 
long  ? " 

"  Yes,  the  one  uncle  Peter  manages  for  me." 
"  Yes,  master,  I  knows  dat  place  mighty  well." 
"  Well,  how  would  you  like  to  buy  it,  Joe  ? " 
"  Buy   the    farm,    master  ?      What's  Joe    got 
to  buy  wid  ?     I  ain't   got  no  money,  'thout  it's  a 
quarter  Mas'  Tandy  Walker  dun  gim  me  fur  to  clean 
his   boots  sence  we  corned  back  to  de  fort,  an'  I 
jest  know   that  a  quarter  won't  buy  no  sich  low 
grounds  as  dem  dar  down  twix'  dem  dar  creeks  is. 
Dat's   de  very  bes'    Ian'  in  Alabama.     Leastways 
I  dun  hear  de  folks  say  'tis  heaps  o'  times.    You's    * 
jokin'  wid  Joe,  master." 

"  No,  I  am  not,  Joe.  You  can  buy  the  land  if 
you  want  it,  and  there  are  a  hundred  and  ten  acres 
in  the  tract,  besides  the  strip  of  woods  along  both 
creeks." 

"  How's  I  gwine  to  buy  it,  master  ? " 


WHICH  ENDS  THE  STOR  Y.  j  8 1 

"  Well,  let  me  see.  You're  about  thirteen  now. 
It  will  be  nine  years  yet  before  you  will  be  a  man, 
and  if  you  choose  to  live  with  me  until  you  are 
twenty-one,  I'll  feed  and  clothe  you  till  then,  and  the 
day  you  are  twenty-one  the  farm  shall  be  yours  in 
payment  of  wages." 

"  How  you  mean,  master  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  that  besides  feeding  and  clothing  you 
as  I  feed  and  clothe  my  people,  I  will  give  you  the 
farm  for  your  nine  years'  work.  If  you  like  the 
place,  I  will  have  all  the  papers  made  out,  so  that 
the  farm  will  be  yours,  even  if  I  should  die  before 
the  time  is  up.  I  have  more  land  than  I  care  to 
keep,  and  you  see  I  want  to  sell  that  one  farm  to 
you,  if  you'll  buy  it." 

"  Looks  to  me,  heap  more  like's  if  you  was 
gwine  to  give  it  to  me,  master;  dis  on'y  your  fun  to 
say  I  buy's  it." 

"  No,  the  bargain  is  a  fair  one,  Joe.  I  could  give 
you  the  farm  now,  but  I  think  it  will  be  better  for 
you  to  work  for  it,  and  then  you'll  feel  that  it's 
yours  by  right  and  not  by  favor.  I  want  to  make  a 
man  of  you,  Joe,  and  my  children  shall  always  think 
of  you  as  one  of  their  best  friends.  Go  out  of  doors 


!  82  THE  BIG  BROTHER. 

if  you  want  to  dance,  Joe,"  seeing  the  feet  beginning 
to  shuffle,  and  understanding  the  mingled  joy  and 
embarrassment  of  the  boy. 

Joe  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  with  a  sudden 
straightening  of  his  shoulders,  as  if  the  future  man 
liness  were  already  beginning  to  assert  itself  in  him, 
he  advanced  to  Mr.  Hardwicke,  and  shaking  his 
hand,  said  : 

"  Joe  ain't  got  no  learnin'  an'  no  manners  nuther? 
master,  but  Joe's  grateful  anyhow,"  and  bursting 
into  tears  the  boy  left  the  room. 


THE    END. 


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Eggleston  - 
The  big  brother 


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